The immortality we share
by Violetta Jones
Summary: Whether you want to forget or remember doesn't matter. The line is fine when you can't let go. Oblivion is never truly blissful.
1. First Law of Motion

He was floating. Around him, no sound, no shape or light, no smell. No sensations whatsoever. He was floating in a perfect void, simply existing.

He wanted it to last, but he knew it wouldn't. Resigned, he waited.

The wind came. It sent his hair brushing against his face, scarcely a breeze, more akin to the brushing of fingers against his temples than actual motion in the void around him.

The breeze brought words with it, spoken in a distant voice. It sounded young but weary, heavy with something he couldn't define.

"Wake up," it said. "You must wake up."

He scrunched his eyes, trying to get away from the faint touch of whispered words tickling his closed eyelids. Levi didn't want to wake up but knew he'd have to, eventually.

"Wake up," the voice said again. Its tone was still soft, but more demanding this time.

He didn't want to leave this empty space that felt so perfect in its absence of feeling. But even then, there was something to this voice that made him want to follow.

"Wake up," it pleaded one last time.

And so, he did.

* * *

Levi woke up, mind hazy from sleep and a dream he couldn't remember; his thoughts were fuzzy. Limbs heavy, he staggered towards his tiny bathroom and leaned onto the sink with both hands. His head was fuckin' killing him.

Waking up had never been a peaceful affair for him, but today was worse than usual.

He turned on the light, squinting at his reflection in the speckled mirror. His eyelids were definitely puffy, exacerbating his usual dark circles, and slightly red, as if he'd been crying.

He rubbed a hand on his face. He didn't have time or energy to waste on this shit. He sighed and opened the small cabinet above the sink. He downed a couple pills with some water, and having done all he could to counter that fucking headache, he turned the shower on.

Levi wasn't a morning person. He'd never slept well. Between recurring bouts of insomnia, whatever little sleep he managed to squeeze in was restless. Most days, he felt exhausted when opening his eyes. His whole body would suffer from all kinds of small aches caused by the lack of sleep. He felt like a fucking disaster when getting out of bed. And yet, he often woke up earlier than he needed to, unable to get more than a few hours of sleep each night.

Because of that, Levi reveled in his steady routine, which he'd perfected to be as smooth as well-oiled gears. He'd first hop in the shower to wake himself up. He liked to gradually lower the water's temperature, until he got it to freezing levels.

Levi rarely remembered his dreams. He would often sleep through the night, not even recalling whether he'd dreamed or not come morning. If he sometimes knew he'd had dreams, the contents of said dreams would usually escape him entirely. Even on the rare occasion when he'd actually remember, it was never a problem. Getting ready was a good way to distract himself from unwanted thoughts. By the time he got to the office and had his first cup of tea of the day, it would all be gone as if it had never been there. He hardly had the energy to dwell on any of it.

While today was no exception, there was a feeling of foreboding in the cold morning air, in every drop of water that slid down Levi's hair as he exited the shower, rubbing him wrong. It felt like he was missing something important. He couldn't shake off the foolish feeling that he ought to be searching, in spite of not even knowing where to start. That sort of thing drove him up the walls, so he did his best to focus on his routine instead.

He got dressed, unwanted dreams and feelings almost forgotten, but not quite. Bypassing breakfast entirely, as usual, he left his apartment. The commute to work was short, which was fortunate because Levi didn't like public transportation much. Too much noise, too many fucking people crammed in a space much too small. He walked the whole thirty minutes to work every morning, only taking the bus in case of strong rain.

"Good morning," the coworker he shared an office with said as he entered the room and dropped his worn-out canvas bag on his desk.

His only answer was a curt nod, but his coworker didn't take any offense, going on with whatever she'd been doing before he came in instead.

He leaned over his desk to turn his work computer on and opened a drawer to retrieve a tin can. He was about to head for the tiny office kitchen on their floor when the can's weight in his hand registered as way too light to contain enough tea for a pot. After inspecting its contents, Levi didn't even think there was enough left for a cup. He'd meant to pick up more of that delicious premium tea – earl grey mixed with tiny blue flowers – that had the greatest smell and an even greater taste, on the way to work.

He let out a weary sigh and sat down heavily.

"Rough morning?" his coworker asked.

Levi rubbed at his temple.

"You have no idea," he groaned from between his fingers as he rested his head in his hands.

She hummed in answer and went back to her computer screen. Her name was Gisele, and they'd worked together for a few years. She knew by now that he wasn't the most personable in the morning – not until he got a good amount of tea in him, anyway. Levi wasn't overly fond of her, but she was a little more tolerable than most of the people he worked with. At least, she knew to leave him alone when he'd run out of tea.

Tea was one of the rare luxuries he would spend any kind of unreasonable amount on. He'd drink it around the clock, making up for the usual lack of sleep, but mostly because Levi loved the taste of freshly brewed tea. Levi had worked several minimum wages jobs when he was a student, before landing his current position as a data entry clerk for a small insurance company. He'd picked the tea habit up during the time he spent working at a coffee shop that served horrendous coffee. There had also been a short time in a warehouse where he was supposed to move shit around, but that one was soon ditched for pizza delivery.

Levi spent his days deciphering handwritten reports for accidents and minor disasters, entering the information into the company's database with the regularity of clockwork. Despite the less than stellar pay, his current job was by far the most lucrative, but for all the financial security and stability it brought him, it was incredibly dull. He'd been looking forward to the only highlight of the morning: a fragrant pot of freshly brewed tea. At the thought of the long day ahead, he made an irritated noise.

"There's instant coffee in the kitchen," Gisele told him, her eyes not leaving her computer screen.

While he did drink coffee on occasion, he wouldn't come near instant. It was disgusting. He put the can back into its drawer.

"I'll pass," he said, starting on his work day despite feeling annoyed and cranky.

* * *

"Are you getting lunch?" Gisele asked him a few hours later.

She was standing next to Levi's desk, waiting for his answer. Levi, focused on a report written in tiny handwriting he had trouble reading, only shrugged in answer. By now, he was repressing the first symptoms of withdrawal. He didn't even feel hungry. He just wanted a damn cup of tea.

"The usual," he told her when she didn't move.

She would sometimes try and get him to join her for lunch, but Levi despised cafeteria food. He would bring a homemade lunch box and eat at his desk - during the winter and even summer, when the heat outside was at its peak, so he could take advantage of the office's air conditioning. In spring and the early days of autumn, he'd take his lunch to a bench in the nearby park. It was early October, and the nice weather wouldn't last, so that was exactly what he planned to do. He also tried having lunch before noon whenever he could, just so he could eat in peace. People would invade the park then, and crowds weren't Levi's thing.

"Right. By the way," she said, "are you coming on Friday?"

Levi's co-workers often went for drinks after work, usually on Fridays. He was always surprised to be invited. Levi had never been a friendly person. He'd had to train himself into remaining formal on the occasional phone call to a client. Around his coworkers, he made it a point to be polite but curt. He didn't care much for people in general, and he'd realized early on that others didn't seem to care much for his company either.

He couldn't be bothered to do anything about it. He was short, looked surly and uninviting, so what? He didn't mind.

"I'm busy," he told her.

He'd spent the entirety of his school years without a single close friend, only acquaintances. Aside from the occasional mandatory group project, he'd avoided his peers. He was more efficient when working alone, anyway.

He hadn't changed in that regard.

"Yeah," Gisele said, looking just a tiny bit disheartened. "Maybe next time?"

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Yeah," Levi said. "Maybe."

She never failed to issue those Friday night invitations, even though Levi had never agreed to come along. He didn't understand why she seemed disappointed each time.

On the rare occasions he actually tried, Levi didn't connect well with people. Small talk bored him to death, and he didn't like alcohol much. Most social situations made him feel inadequate. He wasn't the type to feel lonely anyway, though he sometimes missed having people around. But it never lasted, and he often thought it was better to be alone than bored in some noisy place with people he didn't care about.

While Levi wasn't overly fond of his coworkers, they usually didn't seek his company either, Gisele being the only exception. He was vaguely aware that most people found his life – found him – utterly lacking. He had no compelling stories to tell; nothing of interest ever happened to him. But he didn't find his life lacking, and was even content with it, even if it looked dull to others. Dull was good. Dull was safe. As far as he was concerned, it was enough.

He was fine with it. He didn't need anything more.

* * *

Levi liked the park. It wasn't large by any means, but still enough that he could usually find a quiet place during his early lunch hour. The trees hid the buildings looming over the small patch of verdure. Levi didn't like cramped spaces, but he wasn't exactly fond of large ones either. The park was perfect.

After finishing his lunch – a simple pasta salad – he exited the park, crossed the street and entered the nearby coffee shop.

Levi wasn't averse to coffee, provided it was good, not too sour, and black. But he didn't let the strong, heady smell of roasted coffee beans entice him. This was a chain store, and their coffee was mediocre at best. Their tea wasn't much better, but it vastly surpassed supermarket bought tea bags.

He got what he needed to last him until the order he'd made for his favorite tea was delivered, and headed back to the office. Crossing the street, he entered the park again. It was really a nice day, so late in the year, and he walked, head held up to watch the trees and sky, lost in thoughts of falling leaves and tea.

Something must have caught his attention, because he looked down. There was a wallet on the ground, probably fallen from some poor guy's pocket. Levi stood there for a while, uncertain what to do. He quickly surveyed the surrounding area, but the secluded path he'd taken on his way back to the office was deserted.

He almost went on his way without a second thought. It was a mere whim that made him change his mind and pick it up.

He examined the wallet, turning it around in his hands and brushing the dust away with a steady hand. Sober, worn black fabric. Small and inconspicuous, to say the least. Most likely a man's wallet, he thought. He opened it, and there was a student ID tucked in there, next to a fat stack of bills.

He would've dropped the lost wallet to the police station, but his lunch break was about to end. He could probably try and drop it when work was over. With that decision made, he headed back to his office building.

He didn't expect to find Gisele already back at her desk, trying to wipe the tears that were falling down her face like a tropical waterfall during rain season. She glanced at him when he entered their shared office, but quickly averted her eyes and hid behind a fat bunch of wet tissue.

"Ugh, sorry," she said before pausing to blow her nose. "Just – give me a minute, okay?"

Levi didn't answer. He hung his jacket on the back of his chair and, brand new paper bag in hand, went to their floor's kitchen area to make himself the long-awaited cup of tea he craved.

Gisele's coffee mug, a glittery, rainbow thing with frolicking unicorns painted on the side, was in the sink, waiting for its owner to wash it. While Levi waited for the water to boil, his hands strayed towards a nearby sponge and moments later, the mug was clean.

"Thank you," Gisele said when Levi placed her cup on her desk. "Sorry for..." She waved her hand at nothing in particular.

"It's okay," he said.

Steam was slowly rising towards the desk from the warm tea inside the cup. She preferred coffee, Levi knew, but he thought tea was more appropriate. She took the mug and sniffed at its contents. There were more tears in her eyes, threatening to spill again.

Levi sat at his desk and turned his computer on. He could hear the sound of a nose being blown, but he wasn't paying attention, until Giselle spoke again.

"I just found out I'm not pregnant," she said. "Again."

Levi raised his head to look at her. She was looking into her mug, held close between her hands. He wasn't aware that she'd been trying to get pregnant. She was single, and she'd never struck him as very family oriented.

But Levi believed he shouldn't care, and it was no business of his anyway.

"Its okay," he simply said.

* * *

It wasn't until his workday was over that Levi hesitated. He was tired – his earlier exchange with Gisele had been draining for some reason – and he still had to pick up some groceries if he wanted to eat tonight. Going to the police station was a long detour from his usual way home. A second glance at the ID in the wallet told him that its owner lived only minutes away from his own apartment building.

That was all it took for Levi to change his mind, despite the fact he thought it was a stupid idea.

The wallet owner's apartment building wasn't in much better shape than his own, which had seen certainly better days. He went through the list of names on the intercom. But the one he was looking for wasn't there. He stood there and stared. He checked the ID, then the list again, squinting against the late afternoon sun. This was definitely the right place.

Maybe the wallet owner's name wasn't on the lease. Maybe he'd moved. Maybe that person didn't live there anymore, and Levi should have gone to the police instead. The thought that he had wasted his time made him feel weirdly empty.

"Hey," a voice said from behind him.

Levi turned around. A young man was standing there.

"Can I help you?"

Levi's eyes flickered to his face when he spoke. An uncertain smile tugged at the stranger's lips when their eyes met. Levi took another look at ID that was still in his hand.

"Eren Jaëger," he said, looking at the young man again.

It wasn't a question, and he didn't get an answer.

They stood for a moment in the waning sun, silently appraising each other. Levi thought the young man looked a little older than when the picture had been taken, but he was definitely the wallet's owner. The features were the same – the remarkable, focused green eyes, the strong line of the mouth, and the well-defined, dark eyebrows that were currently twisted into a frown.

Eren Jaëger opened his mouth but seemed to change his mind midways. He stared at Levi, a look of concentration on his face.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, averting his eyes. "I know we've met somewhere, but I can't seem to remember, er, the circumstances. I recognize your face, though. Sorry," he said again when he didn't get a response. He looked nervous, playing with the zipper of his sweater and scratching his left palm with the opposite hand.

All that fidgeting made Levi anxious. He didn't want to make this more awkward than it already was.

"We haven't," Levi said.

Eren Jaëger seemed confused.

"Haven't?"

Levi blinked, not really getting why the kid had trouble understanding his simple statement.

"Met," he repeated. "This is the first time we've ever met," he added, in case further clarification was needed.

"We haven't?" the latter said, frown deepening. He looked more confused than ever.

Shifting his weight onto his other leg, Levi drug the wallet from his back pocket and held it out to its owner.

"I'm only returning this."

"Ah," Eren Jaëger said, looking at the wallet in Levi's hand.

When he didn't make a move to take it, Levi raised a brow. This was already taking too long for his liking.

"You probably shouldn't walk around with so much cash on you," he said, waving the wallet into the other's face. "What is it, drug money?"

"Shit, no!" Eren laughed, sounding nervous.

At last, a reaction.

He took the wallet and opened it, sighing in relief when he realized his money was still inside. Levi noticed that Eren didn't even bother to count it.

"Only rent, I'm afraid," Eren said. "I owe you big time for returning this. I'd be homeless by the end of the week without your help."

He looked at Levi, shooting that confused frown at him again.

"And sorry about earlier, but I could've sworn –"

"You're welcome," Levi replied, unwilling to make the moment last longer than necessary.

He'd delivered the lost wallet and its content to their rightful owner, and he had no reason to stall. He suddenly couldn't wait to leave.

"Bye," he said, already turning around to leave.

"Wait," Eren said. "I'd like to thank you. For returning this."

He tapped his wallet against his palm, before tucking it into his jeans' back pocket.

"It's fine," Levi said, waving dismissively and walking away.

He'd barely made a couple steps when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"At least, let me buy you coffee."

The hand on Levi's shoulder was light, as if the young man somehow knew that he wasn't too keen on being touched by strangers. Levi refrained from shrugging his hold away, knowing there was no tactful way to do it. He was irritated at the young man for being so insistent, and at himself since he knew he was probably glaring. It was rude, and he usually tried not to be. But rude was his default. Keeping his mouth shut was the best way he'd found not to pass for the crass jerk he probably was.

Not that it worked all that well with the glaring that wouldn't leave his face when he was annoyed. But maybe it was useful, because the young man seemed to get the hint and removed his hand. There was an awkward pause as the latter averted his eyes nervously to stare at the ground, worrying his lower lip. It only lasted a moment. When he raised his head, he looked determined.

"Are you absolutely positive we've never met? I'm pretty sure –"

The more time passed and the more this kid opened his mouth, the more Levi wanted to leave. Was he seriously more interested in Levi than his lost rent money?

"Look, kid," Levi said. "You're grateful, I get it. Let's leave it at that."

The line of Eren Jaëger's mouth was tense. His eyes, which refused to leave Levi's, had a subdued intensity to them.

"It's not –" he started, gesturing with his arm, but seemingly changing his mind in the midst of it, and dropping it at his side. "I just –" he tried again, and sighed. "Sorry. I don't want to impose, and you obviously have somewhere to be."

He averted his eyes from Levi's to look at his feet. His hands were back at his jacket's zipper.

"Thanks for returning this, I guess," he finally said, offering Levi a small smile.

He looked sad. Levi gave Eren a cursory, detached once-over. He was in good shape, and despite the creasing between his currently furrowed eyebrows, his youthful face was free of worry lines. Maybe he felt sad now, but he'd get over it soon enough.

Levi didn't care, and it was time for him to go.

"It's fine, kid," he said, turning to leave.

He didn't look back.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, he was finally home. He removed his shoes and placed them near the wall by the door. His jacket was hung above them on a cloth-hanger. Levi then crossed his small living-room and went to the open kitchen area to put his groceries away - eggs and vegetables in the fridge, bottled water under the sink.

His dinner was a quiet and simple affair. Levi liked it that way. He finished eating his meal in his silent kitchen. Levi didn't own a television. Books were more of his thing.

Most days, after dinner, he'd spend a couple hours reading. When he didn't feel too tired and the weather wasn't terrible, he'd put sneakers on, and go for a short run before bed. He didn't want to go first thing in the morning, because he would need to shower afterward rather than before his run. He never felt alert enough before showering to go running – or anything else, for that matter. During the day was out as well, because daylight meant more people getting in the way: the sidewalks weren't large in his neighborhood, and around the office was always crowded around lunchtime. The nightly runs were convenient because he could then go home, shower, and get in bed with a book he promptly fell asleep on, if he was lucky.

That night, slumber found him early. His mind was blissfully empty.


	2. Velocity

Eren opened his eyes to the light from his digital alarm clock, reflected on the crumbly ceiling of his bedroom. He blinked several times against the faint darkness, trying to hold onto the face in his dream, but he knew it was a lost cause.

It had been a while since he'd had that kind of dream, at least a few months. It wasn't as overwhelming anymore, but he still couldn't help but feel troubled.

A glance at his alarm clock told him it was a couple hours before he was supposed to wake up. He sighed. He felt perfectly alert.

If Eren would sometimes jump awake in the wee hours of the morning, he would usually manage to fall back asleep. But now seemed to be one of those nights where he woke up restless.

Since going back to sleep didn't seem like an option, it was no use staying in bed. He got up and squinted as he turned on the small lamp that sat on his desk. After rummaging around in his closet, he finally came out with a pair of shorts. He promptly put it on, as well as his t-shirt and hoodie from the previous day. If he was going to sweat his heart out, he didn't need clean clothes. Grabbing his keys – and entirely overlooking his cellphone – he left.

Sometimes, after having one of these dreams, Eren felt like he was missing something important, and compelled to look for it without delay. Trouble was he could never remember what he was supposed to look for.

So, he ran. And while he ran, as his body was busy with the simple, mindless motions, he could shake off the dream-induced adrenaline. It helped clear his mind. It helped him think. It was the best way he'd found to let go of all the aimless energy these dreams left him with.

They used to wake him up about every other night as a child, often screaming and in tears. His parents had him go through therapy until it became manageable. It took a while, but in time the dreams finally became a rare occurrence, though they never entirely went away.

Oblivious to the familiar, mundane streets around him, he let his feet take him on his usual route, which went around the nearby cemetery. He didn't know why, but he always felt pacified by the orderly rows of tombstones, by the surrounding quiet. He'd told someone at school once, and they thought it was morbid, told him he was a weirdo. It was probably true, but he couldn't care less. Not anymore.

In his dream, something had been chasing him, trying to grab at him. He'd tried to flee, but it had been useless, and he'd been taken away. Eren could never make out what or who wanted to hurt him. But he knew, with the sort of clarity dreams sometimes gave rise to, that they always wanted to eat him, as well as his companions, if any were present in the dream. Companions he was supposed to protect. Companions he was often unable to save.

It wasn't the first time he'd had that kind of dream, and there were variations. Sometimes, he'd be the one doing the chasing. But in the end, it was always chasing or being chased.

They were always hungry.

As the cemetery came into view, Eren sped up. The white front gate was a ghostly shape in the dark as he passed it. Eren's feet took him along the narrow street that circled around the cemetery.

Just as he couldn't ever make out what was chasing him, the faces of his unfortunate companions always eluded him. They were all blurry, featureless faces, as if clouded by mist. When he was lucky, he'd remember knowing eyes, or the soft slope of a smiling mouth. But it scarcely happened, and he could never catch a full set of features. The details, like hair or eye colors, were hazy. Despite being able to tell these people were important to him – comrades, mentors he held a great deal of respect for, beloved family or friends, and even a few who evoked hurt and betrayal – it all slipped through his fingers as soon as he woke up.

Even when he called out to one of his dream companions, he could never seem to remember their names after waking up.

It used to drive him crazy as a teenager, and he'd never really made peace with his brain's inability to materialize faces to remember once awake. Even now that he was older and less prone to irrational bursts of anger, he still woke up confused. It was frustrating.

He passed the cemetery gates, quickening his step as he went for another round.

Someone had been calling his name. Even though he couldn't hear what they were saying – he never heard any sounds in his dreams - he'd listened with eager attention. Another thing that set this dream apart from others was the attentive, pale eyes mirroring his, a piercing gaze that seemed to see right through him. It had felt like that person's intense focus had been directed only towards him, nothing else. They were his beacon in the storm, and it seemed he was theirs, too.

But once again, he couldn't remember a face.

It wasn't the first time he dreamed of this person, but the misty figure, as vague as it was, had never left such a vivid impression. Even though he couldn't make out their eye color before, he could tell it was peculiar, because they were strikingly clear.

He blamed it on that guy, the one who'd found his wallet the previous day.

When he'd seen the stranger standing in front of his apartment building, even though he could only see his back, he'd felt a sense of uncanny familiarity. He was pretty sure they were someone he knew, but couldn't place them. When the man had turned around and Eren had been able to look at his face, it had made things worse. He didn't know that man, had never seen his face, but the feeling of familiarity only intensified.

He didn't see the man's eyes properly in the dying October sun, so he couldn't tell what color they were. But Eren wasn't about to forget his face.

He'd really gone and made an ass of himself. It was obvious that the man wanted nothing to do with him. Eren didn't even understand why he'd taken the trouble of bringing his wallet back to him. He'd seemed quite – unfriendly and unapproachable. Uncaring, even. The glare that seemed to be a permanent fixture in an already unwelcoming face didn't help – not that the stranger was ugly, no. His face was fine, but something about it gave off the feeling that its owner shouldn't be messed with.

Yet in the end, while the stranger had been elusive at best, he'd been perfectly polite and personable during the whole encounter.

And then, he'd run away like he couldn't wait to end their exchange.

This whole encounter had awakened a sharp feeling in Eren's mind. Familiarity, yes, but also something akin to relief, the kind you felt when meeting a friendly face after fending for oneself in a hostile environment for a while, maybe. Or even the feeling you'd get, coming home after a long, exhausting day at work. His whole body thrummed with it. Finally, it said. Eren had no idea where such a feeling could come from.

It hadn't felt right, letting that guy leave without properly thanking him, without digging deeper. But it was too late, now. He was gone, and Eren didn't even know his name.

The burning sensation in his legs and lungs propelled him out of his thoughts. He was breathless, and not exactly running at a leisure pace anymore. He hadn't even noticed he'd been going that fast. How many rounds had he done? The strain in his calves and thighs was too much to keep going.

He slowed down to a walk. White puffs of misty air that he could barely see danced before his eyes with each rushed breath. He looked around and realized he was at the back of the cemetery, opposite the white gates. He ran his hand through his hair. It felt sweaty. He'd need to wash it when he got back home.

It was still dark, and it was cold. He probably should've worn something warmer, but it was too late for regrets now. He had no idea what time it was. In any case, it was time to go home.

The cemetery was supposed to be closed at night, but the surrounding stone fence was old, and crumbling in several spots, like the one Eren was passing. On impulse, he climbed over the low wall.

Eren had never been in the cemetery, not even in daylight, even though he passed it every day on his way to classes. At this time of the night, it was even quieter than during the day.

The people who'd died in his dreams, friends and comrades, people he loved and respected. Had they ever had a resting place such as this one? He'd dreamt of the acrid smell of burning flesh, searing all the way down his lungs. Of huge funerary pyres. For the lucky ones who hadn't been eaten alive, he assumed. No wonder these had driven him hysterical as a kid.

He breathed in deeply. The air here smelled of freshly overturned soil, of wet grass, of decaying leaves. He'd have to leave soon. Now that he wasn't running anymore, he was tired and cold.

He stopped walking and looked at the nearby tombstones. Out of sheer curiosity, he walked towards the nearest grave and laid his hand on the headstone. It was rough and cold to the touch. He had to kneel and squint to read the engraved epitaph in the faint light from the nearby streetlamp.

 _In loving memory_ , it said, underneath the name of a stranger.

How fitting, he thought. He didn't know what his dreams meant, but even though they were creations of his mind, his attachment to the people he saw there was very real. And he hoped that one day, he would remember their names.

* * *

It was the next Saturday evening and Eren was supposed to be picking up dinner at the supermarket when he saw the man again. He was glaring at a bottle of iced tea like it had somehow personally offended him. And maybe it had. The man wasn't all that tall, certainly not tall enough to grab that bottle. It was sitting on the upper shelf.

Again, the peculiar feeling from before filled Eren's chest. Familiar relief, like the first time. Curiously happy to meet him again, Eren felt compelled to talk to him. Maybe that feeling was caused by the man's bearing, similar to someone he'd once known and had forgotten about. Again, it was like seeing somebody after being apart for a long time and missing them greatly, but it was ridiculous. He barely knew that man, so it was impossible, and Eren bit on the inside of his lips to stifle it.

He must have met him somewhere, and simply didn't remember. There was no other explanation for the overwhelming feeling of familiarity.

He needed to know.

Eren stood there and watched the man, trying to decide how to best approach him. There was no way he was going to let him leave like the first time. He had too many questions to ask.

He considered helping the man by grabbing the bottle for him, but for some reason, he suspected that he wouldn't take it well. He was even shorter than Eren himself, who wasn't tall by any means. Eren didn't want to risk exacerbating whatever insecurities that man might or might not have.

Eren studied the man's face. His eyes, now that Eren could look at them without seeming rude, were definitely similar to the eyes he remembered from his recent dream. Possibly even more than Eren had first thought – and he still couldn't make out their color in the store's much too bright artificial light. It was the glaring, he thought.

When he realized with a start that said glaring was directed towards him, he cursed inwardly.

"You again," the man said.

He sounded annoyed but resigned. Possibly a little angry, too. Eren couldn't help giving an apologetic smile.

"Yeah," he said.

There was an awkward pause, only disturbed by the cheesy pop music that was playing in the supermarket. It was stupid, but Eren was afraid that the man would disappear as soon as he averted his eyes. So, he returned his stare, feeling strangely exposed under that attentive, unfriendly gaze.

The man narrowed his eyes and broke the silence.

"Are you a stalker?"

Embarrassed, Eren did his best to keep smiling.

"I'm only trying to buy food. It's not my fault you decided to come here at the same time."

"Do you make it a habit to stare at strangers, then?" the man retorted, his voice dry and cold.

"Sorry," Eren said, "I was lost in thought and I didn't realize. Besides, you're not exactly a stranger. We've met before."

The man was frowning harder, which curiously, made him look less guarded.

"Just once," he said. "You don't even know my name, kid."

He was still glaring, but Eren felt like the man didn't look all that angry, after all. It was hard to tell, but he was starting to believe that it was just the way his face looked. It made him hard to read.

Eren could only hope the hope he felt wasn't written all over his own face.

"Now's the only chance I've had to ask."

Eren was surprised when the man broke eye contact and, instead of immediately trying to skitter away from the conversation, only shook his head, the corners of his lips twitching. He was muttering something Eren didn't manage to catch.

"Come again?"

"Nothing." The man's tone was distant as he turned back towards the shelves.

As if on cue, the palm of Eren's left hand started itching. He scratched it, but his nerves didn't abate. His hand found its way to the zipper of his hoodie – which was hanging open. He felt weirdly intimidated by this man.

The man was stalling, and it was only moments before he would attempt to leave. Again. Eren had to say something.

"You know," he said before shaking off his nervousness by clearing his throat, "I still haven't thanked you properly."

The man replied with a noncommittal hum, surveying the shelves as if they were more important than what Eren was trying to tell him.

But Eren was determined.

"My offer for coffee still stands. Or dinner," he said after glancing at his cellphone to check the time. "I was just buying something to eat."

"Uh-huh. Crappy supermarket sandwiches, my favorite."

Eren rolled his eyes at the sarcasm.

"Come on, I'm not that cheap," he said, quickly thinking of a few places in the surrounding area that wouldn't be too hard on his wallet. "Let's get pizza or something. I'm starving."

It was unnerving how comfortable he felt around this man whom he barely knew, and on edge at the same time. But when the man turned towards him, he was glaring again, and Eren had the feeling he'd finally had enough bullshit for the night.

"And then what?" His tone was sharper and his back looked tense. "Wine and dine, is that your plan?"

That was disconcerting. Was that really the vibe Eren gave off? No wonder the man didn't want to have anything to do with him if that was how it looked to him.

And the man was still talking.

"Because I'm not interested in snotty kids–"

"No! I just –" Eren said, cutting him off.

Surprisingly, the man stopped protesting, though his frown remained in place. Eren took a deep breath to appease the sudden embarrassment he felt. What was wrong with him today?

"I told you, when we met the other day, that I felt like it wasn't the first time. I only want to confirm it."

The man wouldn't stop glaring, and the zipper on Eren's hoodie was again subjected to some abuse.

"I just want to talk," Eren added, peering at the man nervously. "Only for a bit, come on. It's been driving me nuts all week."

The man's shoulders seemed to relax, though the shift was so subtle that it was hard to tell. He sighed and looked away.

"Is that what it'll take to get you off my back?" he said, sounding slightly irritated but almost subdued compared to earlier.

He sounded resigned again.

Eren nodded.

"Yes," he said. "If that's what you want."

It was okay, he told himself. He didn't get why he was so compelled to try and talk to this man, to learn more about him. But if this was his only chance, besides the one he'd already wasted, he wasn't going to let it go.

The man took a deep breath, pausing before he spoke again.

"Okay," he said.

A feeling like victory flooded Eren's chest. He couldn't help but grin like an idiot.

"You have one hour," the man added.

"Sure."

"No pizza."

Whatever you want, Eren thought, as long as you don't run away again.

"Okay," he said instead. "Chinese, then?"

"Levi," the man said.

Eren was confused by that answer, and it must have shown on his face, because the man soon clarified.

"My name is Levi."

* * *

"Football?"

"Nope."

"Okay, not sports then. Theater?"

"Ugh."

"Painting?"

"No time for extracurriculars."

"Volunteer work?"

"Nada."

Eren had been throwing various activities and locations at Levi for the past ten minutes, without much success. And Eren had a lot to throw. He'd tried about every single extracurricular activity that was available when he was in high school and had gone on to do the same in university. He'd also changed his major twice.

That was what happened when you didn't know where your life was headed. Eren often told himself that he was fine with it.

"Damn. What about jobs?" he asked.

They were waiting for their _mezze_ , and Eren was not-so-sneakily trying to learn more about Levi. Until now, Levi hadn't been very cooperative. His answers were simple and to the point, when not outright monosyllabic. He didn't look all too happy to be here. When they'd sat down, he'd inspected his glass and silverware, as if checking for dirt or fingerprints. He'd put them back on the table without finding anything.

Eren glanced at Levi. He was sprawled on his chair, an arm thrown over the back, as if he was bored to death. His face was uninviting, to say the least. He looked rather sullen, offering Eren an irritated glare. But there was some kind of harmony about his features, something that made them easy on the eyes despite their sharpness.

Levi's demeanor made Eren nervous. The fact that he felt a little guilty for dragging him to the restaurant didn't exactly help.

"Pizza delivery," Levi said. "La Mama on East Maple. Quit five years ago."

That was better, but not really helpful.

"Never heard of that place."

"Starbucks. Church, near the station. Same time as the pizza thing."

"I've never even been there."

"And I'm an office clerk now. Obviously, we're not working together."

"So that's a no-go as well," Eren said.

He scratched his left palm. This was going nowhere. Why did Levi have to be so vague and closed-off about everything? Eren was starting to lose the last of his patience. And time wasn't slowing. If Eren, for some reason he couldn't explain, trusted Levi to keep his word, he knew that he wouldn't stay longer than he'd promised. There was no time to waste.

The waiter brought their meals then, distracting Eren from all the questioning. He felt ravenous, but made it a point to eat properly when he saw that Levi's table manners were a lot better than his own.

"Okay," he said when his initial hunger abated enough for him to focus on something else again. "Where did you say your office building was?"

It was hard, keeping his questions ambiguous enough to avoid seeming too nosy, but specific enough that the answers wouldn't be too evasive.

"Park Avenue," Levi said, somewhat reluctant.

Ah. Now, he might be onto something.

"Downtown? I go to school nearby. Lunch habits?"

"Homemade lunch. I eat in the park sometimes."

Eren sighed. That one was a dud as well.

"I don't. Too far from school. Lunch break is too short to walk there and back."

There was a pause in the conversation, and Eren sighed. He'd virtually exhausted all options. Levi hadn't taken part in any sports, arts or anything aside from regular classes in high school. He didn't know what to ask next.

He looked up, but Levi had averted his eyes. In the restaurant's subdued artificial light, his dark circles were more prominent than earlier. He had an interesting face, Eren thought. Sharp eyebrows, pointy nose. All angles, but with features that were somewhat delicate, youthful, even. With the neutral look they sported right now, they made Levi look like a finely carved statue.

He wasn't bad looking, and maybe Eren would even venture to say that he was somewhat attractive.

Because of his youthful features, Eren had first thought Levi was the younger one between them. But after talking to him, he now suspected that he was older than he looked. Possibly even older than Eren himself.

"How old are you?" he asked, curious.

Levi's eyes immediately went to glare at him again.

"What's it to you?" he said coldly.

"We could've gone to the same school," Eren said, surprised at the unwarranted aggression.

Why couldn't Levi relax a little and not be on the defensive all the time like that?

Levi let out a short sigh that sounded almost like a groan, but answered nonetheless.

"I'm twenty-four," he said.

"What?" Eren said, probably too loud in the small restaurant, because several other patrons glanced at their table before resuming their own conversations. "We're the same age," he added, voice going back to appropriate levels.

Levi was glaring harder than ever.

"I thought you were younger," he said.

"Well," Eren retorted, "I thought you were younger too, at first, but then I changed my mind. You call me 'kid' all the time," he added when Levi raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"You do look young, though," Levi said in a quiet voice that sounded almost soft compared to his usual tone, but maybe it was Eren's imagination. "Something in your eyes."

"Huh. I've been told that before," Eren said thoughtfully. "So, where did you go to high school?"

"Central high, in Riverside."

That was a suburban town Eren had never been to.

"I lived out of state until college." Eren sprawled back in his chair and closed his eyes, sighing. "I give up."

"I found your wallet in the park," Levi said, suddenly conciliatory, "so we've obviously passed each other at some point."

"It doesn't mean a thing if I can't remember seeing you there," Eren said.

Levi shrugged, and the conversation died down.

Eren was surprised when Levi was the one breaking the silence.

"You've sure been around," he said.

"What do you mean?" Eren said, frowning.

"All those things you've done – jobs, clubs..." Levi paused, eyes on his plate. "You've asked me because you've done all of them at some point, and there was a chance we could have met there. Right?"

Eren watched as Levi raised his fork to his mouth, pausing there before glancing up, into the latter's eyes. He was looking at Eren, quietly waiting for his answer.

"Huh, yeah," he said.

"Have you actually tried everything that was taught at school?" he asked, still staring.

Eren chuckled at that.

"You have no idea," he said. "School, sports club, you name it. I even enrolled at an ice skating camp when I was nine. My mom tried to dissuade me but I was a stubborn little shit." He felt a wan smile stretch his mouth at the thought of all he'd put his mom through. "She says I can't stick around long enough to actually enjoy anything though."

"Did you?" Levi asked, finally averting his eyes. "Enjoy anything."

Eren thought about it for a moment, pushing his food around his plate.

"I guess I have, well, at least some of them. Ice skating was nice," he added with a small frown. "But probably not enough to stick around. I just like trying new things, you know?"

Levi didn't answer.

"I..." Eren started after a bit, trying to find a good way to phrase the question. "Do you ever feel like you – like, there's something you should be doing?"

Levi was watching him with attentive, careful eyes.

"What do you mean?" He said.

"It's like, that feeling when you've got something to do – I don't know, taking the trash out, or remember to buy toilet paper before going home, whatever. But you've forgotten, and you've got that nagging feeling, you know? Except you know it's important. Not just an errand. More like bills, or taxes. Something that could have lasting consequences."

Eren felt breathless, as if spouting that nonsense had taken a lot out of him. He didn't know why he was talking about such a personal thing to Levi, who was essentially a stranger – though maybe that was specifically why. He was acutely aware that he wasn't doing a very good job at explaining, anyway.

Levi blinked, but didn't say anything. He was still watching Eren, who felt prompted to go on.

"What I mean is, I feel like there's something I should be doing. I can feel it in my gut," he said, "but I have no idea what it is. I can't even tell if I've ever known. That's how I feel, anyway," he finished lamely.

Levi gently put his fork in his plate, which was now empty. When Eren glanced up at him, Levi's eyebrows were twisted in a drop. But somehow, Eren thought he looked sad.

"So," Levi said, "you haven't found a purpose to your life yet?"

It took Eren a moment to answer, baffled as he was at how easily Levi could put words on the elusive feelings he had such a hard time explaining.

"Yeah," he said.

Levi's answer was quiet, muffled by the napkin he was slowly dabbing his mouth with, looking away as if lost in thoughts.

"It's okay, you know. You're still young."

Eren snorted.

"Like you're so much older."

Levi's narrowed eyes were back on Eren.

"Well," he said, "your hour is up. Thanks for the meal."

Levi was already getting up and grabbing his jacket. He was ready to leave. He was leaving and Eren would never see him ever again, unless chance brought them together one more time.

One hour, that had been the deal. Levi had been tense the whole time. It was obvious that he hadn't wanted to be there in the first place. Levi didn't look like he felt the same as Eren did. They were strangers to each other. Being friends was out of the question.

And yet, Eren couldn't bear the thought of Levi leaving like this, being out of his life for good without even trying. He didn't know what it was about Levi that made him feel this pull, but he'd enjoyed the time they'd spent together, and he wanted more of it.

Following an impulse born in the endless self-confidence and stubbornness his mother had often berated him for, Eren made a choice.

Levi was already out the door. Eren threw some money on the table, but took the time to grab his receipt – he would need it. He was almost running by the time he reached the street. He tried not to panic as he surveyed his surrounding. When he found Levi, he ran like his life depended on it.

"Wait!" he said as he caught up to Levi.

He thought the latter wasn't going to stop, but he did, and turned around as he waited for him.

It took a moment for Eren to catch his breath.

"What," Levi said when Eren took to long to speak.

Eren raised a hand in an assuaging motion. Levi was glaring at him.

"Sorry, I –" he said, still a little out of breath. "I have something for you."

Levi raised a somewhat derisive eyebrow, but didn't try to leave, waiting instead for Eren to produce whatever he wanted to give him.

Eren was rummaging through his pockets, until he found a pencil – a poor excuse of one, short and obviously broken on one end. He scratched his cellphone number on the back of his receipt, and offered it to Levi.

But Levi only glared at it, making no move to take it.

"No."

Eren felt frustration rise from deep within him. He almost wanted to grab Levi's hand and force the piece of paper in his palm, but he somehow knew that it couldn't be a good idea – with anyone, but with Levi in particular. Maybe he could slide it in his pocket, or maybe even – even stuff it into his mouth and have him eat it, but – no, that was his irritation talking. He didn't want to do that.

"Look –" he started, but Levi didn't let him finish.

"No. I said one hour."

"But –"

"I don't need or want your fucking number."

"Just let me talk, dammit!"

His words resonated in the empty street. Again, he'd spoken much louder than he'd intended.

Levi wasn't looking at him anymore. Despite the finality of his earlier words, he wasn't leaving – for now. Eren let hope fill his lungs. He breathed it in and spoke again, quieter this time.

"You don't have to use it. I just feel like – I don't know. I want you to have it. Just in case you remember something."

Levi was staring at the piece of paper in Eren's hand. The look on his face seemed conflicted, though Eren couldn't understand why.

"Come on," he said, "it's only a phone number. You don't have to call or text. No promise made, no pressure, no catch. You can even throw it away later it if you want."

Please, just take the goddamn paper, he thought.

Could Levi catch onto the slight note of despair in his voice? Eren didn't know. But when Levi snatched the piece of paper from his hand, quietly muttering something that Eren couldn't hear, he dumbly felt like he'd hung the moon.

"No promise made," Levi said

He exchanged a short glance with Eren, but didn't hold it for long. He was already turning around to leave.

"Goodbye."

Moments later, he was gone. Eren stood there, watching the corner where Levi had disappeared. He was confused, and suddenly felt exhausted. He didn't get Levi at all, that was for sure.

For some reason, Levi's parting words didn't sound so final.

Shaking his head, he crossed the street and went home.


	3. Air resistance

The bar was dimly lit, and the buzz of muddled conversations saturated the air. Most people were enjoying their Friday night after a long week of hard work. Lively conversations could be heard, interspersed with loud laughter. Every once in a while, cheers erupted from the counter, where a small group was celebrating something.

Levi hadn't even been here for half an hour, and he'd hated every single second of it.

He'd been listening to the conversations around him without taking part. Still, he tried to look like he cared about what these people said. He didn't, but hurting anyone's feelings would lead absolutely nowhere. Levi didn't want to alienate his coworkers any more than he did on a daily basis thanks to his abrasive demeanor.

He didn't know what had compelled him to finally agree to come along tonight, and he was starting to regret that decision. The bar was too noisy, and he could feel the first signs of a headache rearing its ugly head. He'd only been there for half an hour, and he was still nursing his first and only glass of alcohol – some whiskey-based beverage whose name he couldn't be arsed to remember. It tasted like shit, but it was at least better than beer, because beer tasted like piss. He'd only ordered it because everyone in his group was drinking something.

Playing along would benefit him in the long run – not that he cared. It would make any future interaction at work less stilted, for one thing. He was aware that his social skills were poor, so he would gladly take all the help he could get to make things easier. He wasn't dumb enough to underestimate the hassle his coworkers could subject him to if he didn't try to socialize every once in a while. He'd already experienced it at the shitty pizza place he used to work for as a student.

It wasn't like he could avoid his coworkers, anyway. If he complied now, they would leave him alone later. Most of the time, anyway, and at least until the next Friday night.

"Are you listening?"

Gisele was sitting next to him. She was glaring at him, looking disappointed.

He shook his head, raising his glass to his mouth. He'd tuned her out when she'd tried to talk to him earlier.

"Sorry. I was spacing out."

They'd been working together for a few years now, and she'd learned to leave him alone when what she called his "moods" struck. Most of the time, Levi trusted her to respect his boundaries.

She was easily the most tolerable among the people he worked with, though he didn't care much for the way she could become a real chatterbox with people she felt comfortable with – Levi included. She seemed to have taken a liking to him for some reason he couldn't comprehend. They had so little in common. And yet, it would be easy for him to get closer to her, because she obviously liked his company despite his relative youth. He was pretty sure she would like that.

But Levi had never done anything about it. They never met outside of work, didn't ever call or text each other. And yet, she was probably the closest thing to a friend he had.

He'd once wished for friends, but he knew better. At least, he tried to be nice to her, though he didn't always succeed.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, looking mildly concerned.

He drained the last of his drink and raised a questioning eyebrow. He didn't care much for the way she would sometimes turn all mothering on him either. It always felt like she was trying to coax him into socializing like he was a reluctant teenager. Just because she had a good ten years – and a couple centimeters – on him didn't mean he liked being coddled.

"Just tired. Why?"

She hesitated, scrutinizing his face.

"You look terribly pale."

Levi snorted.

"That's my default state."

"I know," she said, "but you really don't look well."

She was frowning. Levi looked at his hands, resting on his lap.

"My sleeping schedule's been all over the place lately," he finally conceded. "This place is too noisy. My head hurts. Satisfied?"

She made a noncommittal noise. The problem with working with the same people for several years was that even when you weren't close to them, they started picking up on small things. Obviously, she wasn't buying his explanation, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she watched him instead.

"What," he said when she kept staring at him thoughtfully.

He held her gaze until she gave up on their staring contest to drink some beer. He thought she'd drop the subject, but she leaned towards him and spoke in a quiet voice, so quiet Levi knew he was the only one to hear.

"For a moment, your face was doing that thing where you frown, and I never know whether –" she started said, but stopped, frowning at her glass. "I thought – you looked sad," she started again, hesitant. "I even wondered if you were going to cry."

She wasn't looking at him, as if unsure whether she was overstepping unstated boundaries between them. Yet her voice as she spoke had remained perfectly even.

If anything, her concern for his well-being was the thing he disliked the most about her. He sometimes wondered whether he might even hate her.

He heard her huff when she realized he wasn't going to address her concern, but she didn't comment on it, redirecting her attention elsewhere instead.

Levi leaned back into his seat. What had possessed him to believe that coming here, against his better judgment, would be a welcome distraction? Being nice to others didn't come to him naturally and required an effort on his part. Too easily annoyed, he didn't even like people, didn't know how to deal with them. He couldn't be bothered to make conversation. Assholes, in particular, bored him out of his mind.

She was talking to one right now. Levi couldn't even remember his name, but that guy was unequivocally disliked by everyone. Since Levi hadn't been listening, he didn't know what had been said with any kind of certainty. But the smug air on his face, in contrast to the tense smile that was barely hiding Gisele's frustration, was as good an indication as anything.

Levi hadn't signed up for drama, and he couldn't be bothered to deal with it. Not tonight.

"Gisele," he said.

She turned to him, and he saw something like disappointment in her eyes.

"I'm tired, actually. I'm going home."

She looked worried, and maybe there was something else there, like the tiniest amount of panic.

The asshole offered a small jab at Levi's lack of tolerance to alcohol but was woefully ignored.

"Are you okay?" Gisele asked. "Want me to go with you for a bit, just in case?"

Her though, Levi wasn't going to ignore.

"Yeah, sure. If you don't mind."

He caught the asshole's eyes. He was surprised to find what looked like jealousy there.

This made no fucking sense. Levi fancied himself as inept at romance. Dating was also the least of his worries, so he just plain didn't. But even then, he was goddamn sure that being an ass to someone wasn't a good way to woo them. Especially when Gisele had been seemingly just as uninterested in dating as Levi for the few years they'd worked together. And even if she was, a single woman trying to have a baby on her own wouldn't settle on the first guy who seemed willing.

He glanced at Gisele, who was putting her coat on. She wore round glasses with a thin, golden rim, which emphasized her round face and made her eyes – a pretty hazel – look smaller than they were. Her long, wavy brown hair was nice, but she didn't try too hard when it came to clothes or makeup.

If she was ready to become a parent on her own, she had to have higher standards than that, right? She should be able to do better than this asshole.

They were out of the bar a moment later, assholes left behind. The relative silence of the streets was refreshing.

Gisele glanced at Levi. "Thanks," she said.

He'd heard people at the office calling her an airhead, but he was sharper than people gave her credit for. Levi didn't reply. Instead, he silently headed towards the subway station which he knew she could get home from.

When they got there, she paused by the station's entrance.

"No need to walk you home, huh," she said, a bemused look in her eyes.

Levi glanced at her and was surprised, not for the first time, to find that she was a little taller than him. It wasn't exactly hard, as her height was fairly average, but she always felt shorter to him for some reason.

"I feel better now."

She hummed pleasantly, and bid him a good night before disappearing into the underground stairway.

The temperatures had dropped the previous day, so maybe it wasn't surprising that the streets on his way home were empty and quiet. It felt uncanny, like he was the only one left alive in town. He liked the quiet, finding it peaceful and comfortable. But tonight, it only made his headache worse.

By the time he leaned back on his closed apartment door, he wanted nothing more than to sleep the weekend away.

He sighed and removed his shoes, placing them neatly side by side on the door's left. His headache spiked. The change in temperature between his moderately warm apartment and the early November cold outside wasn't helping.

He didn't even bother to turn the light on. There were painkillers in a small pharmacy box that was stored in the kitchen – his bathroom was far too small for a proper cabinet. He drowned a couple with a big glass of room temperature water and dropped face down into his couch. Suddenly exhausted, he almost convinced himself to sleep here.

He turned his head to the side and opened his eyes. Immediately, they fell on the scrap of paper which had been lying on his coffee table for the past week. Eren fucking Jaëger's number. The kid had said that he could trash it, and that's what he'd decided to do at first. But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to actually do it.

Pushing on his forearms to get up, he grabbed and scrunched the scrap of paper, intending to throw it into his bathroom trashcan.

It was only after brushing his teeth, putting his dirty clothes in his laundry basket and getting into bed that he realized the damn piece of paper had found its way onto his bedside table. What, had he kept it in his hand all along, while he was getting ready for bed? He could've sworn he'd thrown it away before grabbing his toothbrush.

It was seriously time to sleep. He dropped the paper into the small trash can by his bed. He fell back onto his hard mattress and watched shadows shift on the ceiling above.

* * *

The surrounding smog, a combination of steam, smoke and dust, flying in all directions because of the ongoing fight, was making it hard to see. There was a strong smell everywhere, like something was burning – something that really shouldn't. The air, clammy, was sticking to his clothes, his hair, his skin. He hadn't felt so dirty since leaving the underground city, years ago.

Everything was made hazy by the surrounding vaporous air. He couldn't see a thing beyond a meter away, at best. And yet, there was a strong wind blowing against his ears. It drowned any sounds of the battle, dust in motion the only indication anything was happening at all.

He couldn't see what remained of his squad. He wondered if any of them was still alive.

He was alone, and it was hard to breathe.

He was wary of his surroundings, but the hand on his upper arm still managed to catch him by surprise. His own hands, always steady on his blades, tensed on the hilt, but quickly relaxed when he realized that the hand brought no threat.

He hadn't noticed the young man, but he must have been following him closely for a while. He always followed, like the good little soldier Levi knew he was.

Said young man was trying to talk to him, his voice lost in the gale, and Levi couldn't hear it for the most part. But the wind was whimsical, and he somehow managed to pick up the last sentence.

"This doesn't look too good, does it?"

The young man's whole attention was on Levi instead of the surrounding battle. He was frowning and barely blinked. His eyes seemed huge, rimmed red because of the foul air around them, and they were peculiarly green. In the muddled air of the storm, they were the only thing Levi could see clearly. Amidst the tepid warmth and whirling filth, they looked untainted.

Levi had nothing to give these steady eyes, but the truth.

"No, it doesn't. I'm sorry."

He couldn't even hear his own words. The wind was too strong.

For a long time, Levi had lived his life putting aside any concerns regarding his choices. He knew they would slow his hand and heart, possibly halt them altogether. But here, nearing what was probably the end, he was unable to push those thoughts away completely. Foolishly, he wanted to tell the young man to save his own life and run. He had a better chance than most, being able to disguise himself to escape notice, or fight when needed. But the young man only had months left, at best. A mere few months weren't that big of a sacrifice – especially not months spent on the run, alone with his deteriorating health, until the inevitable end.

The young man wouldn't run. He was brave, fueled by righteous anger, and his eyes were determined. He would see this through to the bitter end.

He trusted Levi not to tell him to give up and flee.

"I'm sorry," Levi said again.

The young man's lips moved again. Like before, Levi couldn't hear, but he knew what the young man was saying.

"What for?" the young man was asking.

He seemed disconcerted.

Levi didn't know where to begin. There was so much he was sorry for. That he couldn't save the young man. That he was powerless to stop anything. That their mission would end up in failure. That life robbed the young man of everything he held dear before he was even an adult. That the young man's friends were gone. That he was unable to save them, unable to save anyone. That the young man had to die alone like this.

Levi didn't say a word, but the young man seemed to understand. He shook his head, stepped closer and put a hand on Levi's shoulder. His eyes were filled with determination, intense green like a beacon in the chaos.

"I'm not alone," the young man said, and the wind brought the words to brush against Levi's ear like a secret whispered in the deafening silence. "I'm not alone, and I'm not dead yet."

There was fear, but no regret in his eyes. His steady gaze, as well as the pressure of his hand on Levi's shoulder, were grounding.

Never breaking eye contact, the young man slowly raised his closed fist to his chest, until it covered his heart.

Levi stared, forgetting the turmoil around them, his entire focus on the young man before him, fist over his heart and determination in his eyes. It was quite a sight. The gesture was informal, different from what decorum required from a soldier. It was almost intimate, like a promise or an oath offered in secrecy. Levi was oddly touched.

He knew the young man had never failed to fulfill his duty. He'd seen him recklessly put his life on the line more than once. He'd always listened to what Levi told him, and at times, Levi had even suspected that the young man had gone out of his way to humor him. Like Levi's opinion mattered to him.

I'll follow you to the end of this, his gesture said. He was dedicating his heart to their goal, and had entrusted Levi with it. He was ready to die trying, and Levi felt unworthy of such unfaltering trust.

He tried not to think about the fate awaiting for this admirable young man, when he knew he deserved so much more. Levi would have given that to him, if he could. But they were most likely going to die today. They would die here, together. Levi thought there was a kind of romanticism to that.

The young man was right. There was no room for feelings or regrets now. Levi could mull over those after he died. Hah.

Levi didn't believe in a life after death.

His only regret – but this one wouldn't get in the way, not anymore – was that he'd have to die without telling the young man how this meant to him. How it made him feel. He had no words for this now. All he had to offer was his trust in return for the young man's own. He knew the young man understood.

Levi nodded at the young man, who left his arm fall at his side. He was ready.

So was Levi. Not alone, he thought. It wasn't much, but it was everything.

Without looking back, knowing the young man would follow, Levi walked into the fire.

* * *

Levi's awoke to the light of some nearby street lamp, painting formless shapes on his ceiling that he could barely see. His eyes were burning from dehydration, and his throat was tight. He breathed in deeply, windpipe fluttering oddly, as if previously deprived, when the air filled his lungs. He felt too warm, sticky, and he realized that he was quite sweaty. He didn't remember falling asleep, but fragments of his dream stuck to him like dirt on clammy skin.

When he sat up, his throat closed up, and he gritted his teeth. He was going to be sick.

He peeled off the sheets from his feverish legs and ran for the toilet before kneeling in front of the bowl and violently heaving. He barely had the time to breathe before he retched again, but his stomach was empty and nothing came out but bile.

When his stomach felt stable enough, he carefully sat down against the wall, still trying to catch his breath.

It had been a while since he'd remembered a dream with such clarity. It had been even longer since the last time he'd woken up sick from such a dream. More than a decade.

There was a reason why he was glad for dreamless nights. The few dreams he could recall were rarely pleasant, when not downright horrific. Whenever it happened, he tried his best to ignore it. He'd been having them for so long that he'd gotten quite good at that.

He stood up and proceeded to brush his teeth. His reflection in the mirror looked pale, and his dark circles were a worrying blueish color. In the pallid light of his bathroom's shitty overhead lamp, he looked like a corpse.

He rinsed his mouth and poured himself a big glass of cold water. He needed a shower, but he still felt somewhat faint. Besides, his sheets needed a good wash now that he'd sweated all over them. Lying in filthy sheets for a few hours wouldn't kill him. Not that he believed he would be able to go back to sleep.

He sat on his bed, and was putting his second glass of water on his bedside table when he noticed a small, crumpled ball of paper on the floor. He picked it up, unfolded it and paused.

Again, it was Eren Jaëger's goddamn number. He was sure that he'd thrown it away, but he must have missed the trash can. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Even if he didn't sleep, maybe he could at least try lying down and rest for a bit.


	4. Gravity

He was running.

He couldn't remember where he was going, but recognized his surroundings. Everything was familiar in a way only habit could bring.

He was vaguely aware that there was chaos around him. He could hear someone scream.

He wasn't alone. Someone was running behind him, calling his name. But his single-minded goal lived in all the space beneath his lungs. It didn't leave any room in his head. He couldn't answer, or stop and wait to ask what they wanted. It was becoming hard to breathe.

More screaming. It was a horrifying sound, a deafening, deformed sound of grief and pain. Something that should never come out of anyone's mouth. But he was so focused on running he barely registered it. He needed to go, to be somewhere. He was running so fast it almost felt like flying, but dread was weighing his calves. He could feel every single step he took hit the ground like a hammer on stone. It seemed like the earth beneath his feet was vibrating.

He'd be there soon. It was just around the corner. He ran faster.

The person behind him wouldn't shut up, but he wasn't listening. He was almost there. Faster, faster. He couldn't feel the ground under his feet anymore.

They were still calling his name as he turned the corner.

He reached forward into the void.

* * *

Eren woke up to the sound of his phone vibrating. He moaned into his pillow, and covered his head with his blanket.

He hoped to doze off, but the remnants of his dream were surfacing with increasing clarity in his mind. He groaned again. After such a vivid dream, there was no way he could sleep.

The phone was still going.

He pushed the covers away and fumbled for the offending piece of junk. Who the fuck was even calling him at this hour of the night? He looked at the digits on the screen for a moment before realizing that it was an unknown number. A glance to his notification bar informed him that it was a little past two in the morning.

"What the hell?" he said, voice thick with sleep.

He sat up and stared at the screen. Whoever was calling wasn't giving up. Maybe it was important. He answered the call with a brush of his thumb.

"Yes," he said, sounding angrier than he felt.

But only silence was there to greet him.

"Hello?" he repeated.

He could pick up the sound of breathing at the other end of the line, now that he was listening carefully. Breathing that was regular, near silent. He wouldn't even hear it if it wasn't for the quiet of the night. It was creepy.

He was about to speak again, to ask if this was a joke, when he could hear the sound changing. The other person was inhaling deeply, as if preparing to say something, but after keeping their breath for a moment, they only exhaled a slow, shaky sigh. As if they'd changed their mind, or they couldn't find words for what they wanted to say.

"Who's this?" Eren tried. "Is this a joke?"

He had no idea who this could be, but they were doing it again – breathing like they were going to speak, but remaining silent after all.

Eren's perplexity at the caller's behavior was slowly turning into worry.

"Is everything all right? Can you talk?"

He realized right after asking that it was a stupid question. If they couldn't talk, there was no way they could tell him.

After a while sitting there with his phone against his cheek, soft breathing in his ear, Eren decided that it had already lasted too long. He was tired and he'd had enough.

"Look, whoever you are," he said with irritation, "it's the middle of the night. If you have something to tell me, then go ahead, but if you don't speak now, I'm hanging up."

The breathing on the other end of the line hitched, and after that, he couldn't hear anything anymore.

"Hello?"

There was a grating beep in his ear. He leaned back and looked at his screen. The call had ended without the other end saying a word.

Frustration filled Eren. It was only two in the morning. He could sleep and leave it at that. Forget about the stupid phone call. But he suddenly felt very much awake, and did the first thing that came to his mind.

He tapped the call back button.

For a spur of the moment reaction, it wasn't the worst he could do. The unknown caller hadn't had time to block Eren's number, change their voicemail greeting or disable it. If he was lucky and they hadn't left the default message there, he would at least be able to learn their name.

If he was luckier, the asshole would answer and tell Eren himself.

The phone rang for a long time. Just as Eren was sure that he would be sent to voicemail, the person at the end of the line accepted the call.

Once again, Eren was met with silence. But this time, he didn't say anything, waiting instead for the caller to go first. They were taking their sweet time, and he could feel his eyelid shut on their own, his earlier burst of energy already exhausted.

He almost jumped when the elusive caller finally spoke.

"Okay."

A man's voice – whom he didn't recognize. Yet there was something familiar about it.

"Okay?" Eren repeated stupidly.

"Yes," the voice replied, whisper soft in Eren's ear. "Okay."

"Huh." Eren felt utterly lost. "Who is this?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"I'm sorry for bothering you at this hour," the voice said.

Eren was starting to feel concerned again, rather than angry.

"...Okay?"

He had no idea what that guy was on about. But for some reason, he had the feeling that he should tread lightly.

There was another pause, one that seemed to last longer than Eren knew it was.

"Levi," the voice said. "We had dinner together a couple weeks ago. You gave me your number."

It took another moment to Eren to process that Levi was finally answering his question. He remembered, of course. He'd wanted Levi to call, though he hadn't dared hope because Levi had made it clear that he never intended to.

"You said –" Eren started, but stopped, unwilling to point the lack of coherence in Levi's words and actions and risk a change of mind on his part. "Why are you calling at two in the morning? Is everything all right?"

He was definitely worried, now. The reveal of his mysterious caller's identity had quickly replaced any of his remaining anger with more confusion and concern.

"I'm fine," Levi said. "I couldn't sleep, and I thought I'd see if you were awake."

He made it sound like he'd only called because he was bored or something. Eren didn't buy it. Even though he barely knew Levi, he also knew that you didn't have that kind of quiet little freak out when you were just checking whether someone was awake out of boredom.

But Eren didn't say anything. He'd thought he'd never hear from Levi ever again, and he was glad that he'd called. Even if he was being weird as fuck. He didn't want to scare him off.

"Well, here I am," Eren said, stifling a yawn.

A pause.

"I woke you up," Levi said.

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," Eren said. "It's fine."

Levi was silent for a moment.

"I should probably let you sleep."

He sounded like he regretted calling.

"No, really," Eren said, "it's fine. I don't even have classes in the morning."

Levi didn't answer, making a noncommittal sound instead.

There was another lull in the conversation, and Eren wondered what Levi was thinking. From what he'd seen when they'd last met, it was hard to make him talk, but possible with careful probing.

"Well," he said, "how are you?"

He could hear a soft chuckle on the other end.

"I'm an insomniac. What do you think?"

"Fair enough," Eren said. "I can relate."

Levi seemed to ponder this for a moment that stretched between them.

"You can?" he said.

Eren shrugged by reflex, though Levi couldn't see him.

"I sometimes wake up after sleeping for a few hours, feeling antsy as fuck. As you can guess, it makes it hard to fall asleep again."

Another pause.

"I have trouble falling asleep," Levi said.

Eren hummed softly.

"How do you deal with insomnia? Aside, you know, from robbing people from their well-deserved sleep?"

Levi made an irritated noise, but Eren thought he sounded amused.

"I read. I clean."

"Clean?" Eren asked, a little bemused. "Like what?"

"Like chores," Levi said.

The idea of Levi, spring cleaning in the middle of the night, was so incongruous that Eren couldn't keep from smiling like a goof.

"At two in the morning?" he asked, knowing Levi would hear it in his voice. "Don't your neighbors get pissed off when you vacuum in the middle of the night?"

It was so silly he couldn't contain the snicker making its way to his voice anymore.

"I keep the noisy stuff for daylight."

"I guess that works," Eren said. "Some days, when I feel so restless that I'm going to break something, I go for a run."

"In the middle of the night?"

Levi's voice definitely sounded amused now. He'd never seen Levi smile, and despite the fact they barely knew each other, he couldn't picture him doing it. All he could come up with was a downturned mouth, a frown, and steely eyes. Maybe a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. Nothing more.

Eren lay down and closed his eyes.

"Yeah."

They remained silent for a bit, but it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. Eren heard some shuffling on Levi's end, and imagined that he was lying down as well.

"You know," Levi said after a while, "you asked me so many questions the other day, but I never got to do the same."

Something about Levi's words made Eren's chest warm up.

"Yeah? Be my guest."

There was more shuffling, then silence.

"Your folks," Levi said. "What are they like?"

Eren snorted.

"It's just my mom and me."

Levi made a noise to show he was listening, so Eren went on.

"I don't really remember my dad. Mom told me they didn't work out because he was married to his job. He didn't exactly keep in touch." He paused to gather his thoughts, unwilling to ramble about his absent progenitor. "She had a hard time raising me on her own. My grandparents helped for a while, but they're gone now."

"I see," Levi said.

There was a pregnant pause between them. Eren didn't mind talking about his father, but it was still a sensitive topic for him. The less he thought about him, the better.

"No siblings?" Levi asked.

Eren hadn't realized he'd tensed up earlier, but he now felt much lighter at the change in topic. Had Levi sensed his reluctance? Either way, he was grateful.

"Nope. What about you?"

Eren expected Levi to say that he'd asked enough questions at the restaurant, but he was surprised when he replied with a straight answer after a short pause.

"My mom died when I was twelve. I spent some time in a children's home, but I've been on my own since I was sixteen."

There was really nothing Eren could answer to that.

"Oh," he simply said.

There was a loose thread at the corner of his blanket, and he twirled it around his little finger. He couldn't even start to imagine what Levi had gone through at such a young age.

Levi didn't seem to mind Eren's answer, or lack thereof.

"Where did you grow up?" he asked.

Eren spent the next half hour answering Levi's questions. It turned out that Levi wanted to know many things. Where Eren and his mom had lived. How life was for him as he grew up. If he had many friends in school. Eren told him about his mild temper issues in elementary school, but he didn't talk about his nightmares or subsequent counseling sessions. They'd only known each other for a short while, and Eren didn't want to scare Levi away yet. It had happened before, and Eren was wary of repeating his past mistakes.

He was answering yet another mundane question – Levi wanted to know what his favorite food was as a kid – when he realized that Levi had fallen silent. His voice died down, and he listened. Levi's breathing was slow and deep.

"Levi?" he said, voice soft.

Levi didn't respond. Eren could hear breathing, slow and regular, in his phone's speaker. Levi had fallen asleep.

Eren listened, smiling. Levi had seemed wary and guarded when they'd met before, but he'd felt different tonight. The only sort of interest he'd displayed towards Eren until now had seemed forced and shown only out of politeness.

I want him to like me, Eren realized. He didn't know how he could have missed it until now. He didn't know why, because Levi wasn't all that pleasant to be around, and Eren barely even knew him. But it didn't matter, and Eren couldn't say he cared to understand. All he knew was that he wanted this man's attention.

Listening to Levi's quiet breathing, he felt an unexpected emotion arise within himself. _Déjà-vu_ , he thought, but it was more than that. The stronger the emotion got, the more complex it grew.

He would think about it later, after he hung up, went back to bed, and awoke to a cloudy morning. He sent Levi a text, explaining how he'd dozed off in the middle of the conversation. That he had thought Levi needed it and had decided to hang up instead of waking him up. That he'd enjoyed the conversation and that Levi could call whenever, day or night.

Levi didn't reply until later that evening. Eren had more time than was necessary to examine what he was feeling, as it persisted past the night, all throughout the day, distracting him during his classes.

 _I'm already regretting this_ , was Levi's answer.

Eren couldn't decide if what he was feeling was familiarity, nostalgia or homesickness. He ended up deciding it was a mix of all three, a peculiar kind of yearning.

* * *

After that, he started texting Levi regularly, for all kinds of inane excuses.

 _I saw a cat on my way home_ , he sent, along with said cat's picture, withholding his opinion – the cat, with his lush black fur and grumpy face, reminded him of Levi. _How was your day?_

 _I don't even want to know_ , was Levi's reply. _My day was boring as hell._

 _What do you even do?_

 _Data entry for an insurance company._

 _Like, claim statements? No wonder you're bored._

 _Fuck you. It pays the bills._

 _Next time you're bored, text me?_

Levi didn't reply.

* * *

He was often surprised at how easily Levi saw through him.

 _I hate statistics_ , he sent while in class. _If I'd known I would have to take maths again, I wouldn't have gone for sociology in the first place._

Levi was slow to respond during the day, but this one seemed to get his attention, and Eren got a reply within the next ten minutes.

 _You wouldn't be majoring in sociology if you didn't like it_ , Levi wrote.

He was right. Eren never did anything he didn't feel attracted to – though not losing interest was another matter.

 _It's anthropology I'm really aiming for, you know_ , Eren texted back.

But Levi didn't respond after that.

* * *

 _The bus was crammed and I couldn't get on the first one I caught_ , Eren sent while commuting after classes ended. _Now I have to wait for the next one and it's raining._

 _Buses are gross_ , Levi said.

 _I think the guy next to me forgot to put on deodorant this morning_ , he said after getting on the second bus, which was packed as well.

 _People are gross._

 _I got wet and the bus was too warm and I smell like wet old dog._

 _You're gross._

 _Hey, are you free on Friday night?_

Levi ignored the last message.

* * *

Levi, Eren learned, had a very peculiar sense of humor. His jokes were crass and terrible, but Eren found himself laughing every time.

 _I'm bored at the laundromat_ , Eren sent on a Sunday. _Please send help._

 _I don't have the kind of time that would allow me to wipe your butt for you_ , Levi's text said.

Eren wondered. If Levi had so little time for him, why was he still there, answering stupid texts and making lame jokes? But he didn't dare ask Levi yet.

* * *

Eren suspected Levi was avoiding any kind of invitation to meet.

 _You know what's gross? Cafeteria food_ , he texted one day during lunch break, sending along a photo of something that was supposed to be spinaches.

 _Did you throw up? Looks like a pile of shit_ , Levi replied, making him laugh once more.

 _I'm craving ramen_ , Eren replied. _Do you like ramen?_

He knew he hadn't been subtle. Either way, that one was ignored as well.

* * *

But Eren knew himself to be persistent when he was truly interested in something.

 _There's a new pho place that opened near my place_ , he sent on a cold November day. _I'm freezing my ass off and I want soup. Wanna come with?_

He was surprised to get an almost instant reply.

 _Okay._

* * *

Despite their back and forth question game of sorts, Eren didn't know much about Levi.

"What did you study in school?" he asked.

They were sitting at the counter, which Eren didn't know if he liked better than a table. He wasn't facing Levi, so he could only glance at him from the corner of his eye while also eating from his large bowl. It was hard for Eren to read him when he couldn't properly look at his face. But every once in a while, Levi's knee would bump into his by accident. It brought Eren an entirely different kind of comfort. Worth it, he decided.

Levi wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering.

"The usual," he said. "Maths, geography. Didn't care much for it, to be honest."

"I meant after high school," Eren said, picking up some noodles with his chopsticks.

As expected, pho was warm and comforting, but also frustrating, seeing as the restaurant only provided spoons and chopsticks as a mean of cutlery.

Levi didn't seem to have a problem with them.

"Social sciences, for the most part." Levi paused. "Actually, aren't you an archeology major? What does that entail, exactly?"

Eren went on to explain what subjects he was studying and many more things, spurred on by Levi's occasional questions. He only stopped when the man behind the counter came to remove their empty bowls.

That's when Eren realized that Levi had answered none of his questions. Well, he had, technically, but Eren hadn't learned anything substantial about him. Again.

As Eren was only now starting to realize, Levi was surprisingly adept at subtly changing topics. He managed to give off the confusing impression that he was somewhat talkative – and Eren had believed that until now – but he really wasn't. His conversation was terse and to the point. He'd been deflecting Eren's questions with his own and getting him to tell stories instead of truly answering, and Eren had walked into his trap again and again since the beginning.

"What's wrong?" Levi asked. "You look like some bird shit landed in your plate."

Eren shrugged. "You're not really answering any of my questions," he said, and it was merely a statement. It wasn't like he had any right over Levi's private life, or the way he decided to share it or not.

It frustrated Eren even more that Levi was still a good conversation partner. He knew how to listen, liked to point out small things in Eren's stories, which showed not only that he was listening, but that he was even interested.

Levi held his glass in a mock cheer, stern as ever aside from the slight curve at the corner of his mouth.

"Tough luck," he said, and drank. He put his glass back on the table, and gently trace the rim with his fingertip. His subtle smile was gone. "You're not missing much, anyway," he added in a voice so low Eren had to strain to hear him. "Your life is much more exciting."

Yes, Levi was secretive, cold and distant. He could be rough and even downright rude at times. But sometimes, like now, he would go from this downcast disposition, shoulders and features becoming stiff as if carved in stone, withdrawing from conversations in a subtle way in a matter of seconds.

"Is that why you like to listen to my ramblings? Because you're bored out of your mind?" Eren asked.

Levi's eyes jumped to Eren's, a soft smile gracing his sharp features, making him look younger.

"Maybe," he said.

It was hard to know what Levi thought, but Eren couldn't help but feel comfortable around him.

Afterward, they walked side by side, slowly making their way home. When Eren asked Levi where he lived, the latter was evasive again, but it was fine. Eren knew it couldn't too far from his own place, since they were still walking in the same direction.

They were supposed to part ways soon, but Eren had other ideas.

"Mind going for a walk?" he asked.

Levi shrugged.

"Only for a bit, though," he said.

Eren didn't protest. Levi was going along with Eren's immature whim. He only wanted to extend their time together for as much as he could, and he had trouble imagining Levi being that cooperative on a regular basis.

Eren hadn't really planned on taking him there, but they soon found themselves next to the cemetery wall. Levi had been following, but when the cemetery came into view, he stopped. Even without looking at him, Eren could sense the slight tension in Levi's posture.

"It's so weird to think I've never seen this place in daylight," Eren said.

Silence stretched between them as Eren stole glances in Levi's direction. The latter sniffled in the cold night, eyes on the floor. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, not paying attention to Eren. But Eren knew Levi was listening. He could see it in the way he was standing, hands in his pockets. He could see it in the barest slope in his shoulders, in the curve of his neck, which his thin scarf did nothing to hide. He could see it in every single puff of air escaping from his mouth.

"You don't like cemeteries," he said.

It was a wild guess, but Levi straightened his back with a stiffness that had been almost invisible before. He was silent for a bit, as if clearing his thoughts.

"I don't care for them," he said.

Nailed it, Eren thought. He stepped a little closer.

"We can go back if you want?"

Levi, who'd been staring at the ground still, briskly raised his head and glared at Eren.

"Because I don't like something doesn't mean I can't deal," he said, his tone sharp.

"Yeah." Eren shrugged. "We can still leave, if you want."

Levi kept his glare on Eren for a few more seconds, then averted his eyes, making a soft, irritated noise with his tongue. Did that mean he was going to keep following Eren? There was only one way to check.

"When I said I'd been here at night," Eren said, "I meant that I've actually been in there at night."

He resumed walking, taking the street that went around the cemetery. Levi watched him for a second, then followed.

"Isn't the cemetery closed at night?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," Eren said.

He didn't even try to suppress the cheeky grin surfacing. His mother said he always took things too seriously, but tonight, he felt strangely playful, almost giddy.

And Levi was staring, silent and unimpressed.

Eren felt his grin widen.

"Wanna peek inside?" he asked.

In the cold light of the nearby streetlamp, it seemed to Eren that something was glimmering in Levi's eyes, but he blinked it away. Shaking his head, Levi made a small noise with his tongue that betrayed annoyance again.

"I don't know what I expected," he said, letting out a breathless chuckle.

It was the first time Eren saw him laugh. Levi's subdued laughter didn't exactly sound amused, but it made something warm squirm within Eren's chest. His own smile couldn't get wider.

"Come on," he said.

He led Levi further along the back street, to where the cemetery wall was crumbling a little. Not waiting to see if Levi was following, he hopped over the wall. Then, he finally turned around.

Levi was standing on the other side, a slight frown on his face.

"Need help?" Eren said, but he already knew the answer.

Levi glared, offended. Without a word, he put a hand on the portion of the wall that seemed to hold best and leaped over it in a fluid motion.

Eren's grin resurfaced, in response to Levi's glare.

"Okay," Levi said. "We're in. Now what?"

"Now," Eren said, his face serious, "we frolic."

Again, that breathless laughter. If he was honest with himself, Eren couldn't get enough of it.

"You're saying that as if two adult men frolicking at night in a cemetery was a thing," Levi said.

"Isn't it?" Eren said feigning concern. "Does it become one if we start doing it? Do we make it a thing?"

Levi looked as unimpressed as ever, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. "You're such an idiot," he muttered, staring at Eren as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

Levi's voice was soft, and Eren could tell he didn't mean it, but there was an edge to his words, something tense in the subtle curve of his mouth.

Levi looked away. The ghost of his smile fading fast on his lips.

Eren felt his own smile recede. If acting like a dumbass was what it took to draw out Levi's smile, he would do it without a second thought. But it wasn't working very well. Obviously, something was happening, sudden and unexpected, which he couldn't understand. And now, he was feeling self-conscious. Was it something that he'd done? He couldn't see what.

The atmosphere between them had been feather-light moments before, and it was now bordering on awkward.

"Let's go," Levi said without preamble, turning around and walking back towards the crumbling wall. "I wanna go home."

They hadn't even been there for a couple minutes, but Eren followed without a word.

What had changed? he wondered as he watched Levi leap over the wall back into the street. Leaning onto the wall with one hand, he made to do the same, but somehow, some jagged stone jutting out of the wall caught into one leg of his pants.

He fell, and would have landed face first if it wasn't for Levi's steadfast, surprisingly strong arms, flying to his rescue and catching him before he could crash down.

Eren didn't waste any time regained proper footing. Levi's hands were grasping at his upper arms, and even though Eren could stand on his own just fine, they lingered. Levi wasn't looking at Eren, his head angled towards the ground instead. He opened his mouth, as if about to say something, but closed it without uttering a sound. He was frowning, features painted with a subtle emotion Eren couldn't decipher. He didn't remember seeing Levi's face so expressive before.

"You're such a dumbass," Levi finally said, voice quivering ever-so-slightly on the last syllable. "You don't –"

He trailed off when he glanced up to look at Eren.

Levi's eyes were dark in the feeble light.

Something passed between them at that moment. It seemed that Levi felt it as well, though Eren couldn't really tell. It made him wonder what Levi wanted to tell him earlier, before changing his mind. But the thought didn't last, distracted as he was by how close Levi's face was to his. He could see each of Levi's eyelashes distinctively.

 _I could kiss him_ , he thought suddenly. _I could kiss him right now._

He found that he wanted to.

His attraction to Levi hit him like the ground after a freefall. It had already been there, he knew now, in the background, just a small thing that could be ignored because it wasn't relevant until this moment. But now, in the faraway light of the street, gazing into Levi's stormy eyes, he couldn't help but admit that he might have been, since the very beginning, slowly but surely falling in love.

Levi blinked, relaxing his hold on Eren's arm. He averted his eyes and shook his head, a small smile adorning his mouth. For some reason, Eren thought it looked forlorn.

The moment was gone.

They stood there for a moment, Levi looking stiff and awkward and Eren feeling floored.

"Well," Eren said, "I could walk you home."

It seemed like a decent thing to do, given the circumstances. But Levi froze, before slowly turning away.

"It's fine," he said. "I'll be fine."

Curiously, Eren felt relieved. At that moment, Levi seemed even more closed up than when they'd first met. It was probably better to give him space. Eren wasn't sure he could do that when Levi was standing right next to him.

"Talk to you later?" Eren said.

"Yeah."

Without another word, Levi walked away, leaving Eren alone to watch him go.


	5. Momentum

"You don't look happy," Gisele told him one morning, carefully drinking her shitty, scalding office coffee during a break.

Levi, who was waiting for his equally hot green tea to cool and tired of being patient, hummed as he risked a sip.

"I never look happy," he told her. "That's my default face."

There was a fond insult somewhere in there, but it got lost on the way from his throat to the tip of his tongue. Which, incidentally, had just gotten burned by his small mouthful tea. Maybe the universe was trying to send him a sign, he told himself – but he didn't believe in that bullshit. Besides, he wasn't close enough to Gisele to feel comfortable being so familiar with her anyway. Not even for fond insults.

"No, I mean," she insisted, "lately, you looked..."

She trailed off, lost in thought as if trying to find her wording. She often did that, and Levi remained silent, waiting for her to elaborate.

They were sitting at the only table in the small kitchen next to their office. Gisele had started taking her coffee breaks along Levi's recently. She still left him to eat lunch on his own, so he didn't mind.

"You haven't met someone, have you?" she asked, then added without waiting for a reply, "You don't have to tell me. I'm just wondering."

She fell silent and sat there, awkward.

Levi focused on his cup of tea, face artfully blank.

"You have, haven't you?"

The words were almost whispered. Levi glanced at her. She was staring at the dark, fragrant coffee in her cup.

Levi hadn't uttered a single word yet. He'd hoped she would drop the subject.

"No," he said, his voice level and passionless.

She hummed softly, drinking more of her coffee.

"Were you rejected?" she asked after a while.

There was a moment of quiet between them. Two of their co-workers came into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, casually talking, and left.

Levi wondered what would happen if he told Gisele the truth. He toyed with the idea, but ultimately decided against it.

"Let's go back to work," he said, already leaving for their shared office.

* * *

 _I had a great time tonight_ , Eren's text said. _I hope we can do this again soon._

Levi didn't know how to answer that, so he didn't.

* * *

 _Midterms are coming and my boss at the store won't give me more shifts_ , the next one said _. He says he doesn't want me to fail college._

The next text came a couple minutes later.

 _He's not wrong, but I get a bonus for Christmas shifts and I need the money._

Levi had been there before, working his ass off to pay for his education and make ends meet. He doubted his words would bring Eren any sort of comfort, so he offered none.

* * *

 _You can message me whenever, you know? No pressure. It's okay if you're busy, or if you don't want to talk._

No pressure all right, you little shit, Levi wanted to say. Of course, he didn't. It'd only serve to spur Eren on – but what did Levi expect? Eren didn't need to be spurred on either way.

* * *

 _I spent all day studying and I'm bored as fuck_ , Eren sent next. _There's nothing on tv._

Then a few minutes later: _I started watching some cooking show reruns because there was nothing else and now I'm hungry. My fridge is empty but I don't want to move. What do you suggest?_

Nice try, Levi thought.

 _I think I'm gonna order something. That doner kebab place near college is really good._

Of course, he wasn't going to take the bait.

* * *

 _Kebab is fucking disgusting._

This might be too harsh of a reply after so many days, so a minute later, Levi added:

 _Thanks for the tip anyway._

* * *

He was watching shadows shift on the ceiling above his bed. His room was dark, aside from the light of a streetlamp seeping through the window. The quiet of his apartment seemed to swallow every sound coming from outside. It almost seemed like he was in another world, separated by a thin veil.

Levi was lying on his back, his two blankets bunched around him to optimize warmth. Heating was expensive, and he would usually turn it off during the night. But he was freezing. Even the second, thicker blanket wasn't enough to ward off the cold of winter.

In the past few days, the weather had changed. The pleasant warmth of Indian summer had given way to chilly days and colder nights. It wasn't unexpected: it was now, after all, late November.

If Levi didn't care much for the cold, he preferred it to steamy hot weather. His run-down building had no air conditioning, and he didn't have the funds to have it installed. Not to mention the fact that he was only renting the place. Because of that, he was glad that his apartment windows faced the North.

He didn't care much for the sun either, so all was well. His apartment was always pleasantly cool in the summertime, and dark like a tomb in the wintertime.

Cool and dark like his fucking stony heart, apparently.

It had taken him a couple days of renewed distance and careful banter through texts from Eren for the muted panic that had filled him since their last encounter to recede a bit. A couple more to answer said texts. He was aware of being difficult, but despite what he'd told Eren, there were definitely some things he'd rather not deal with if he could avoid them.

His own awkwardness wasn't a problem. He'd had a lifetime to get used to being unskilled at social interaction. He dealt with it on a daily basis. But dealing with bright-eyed idiots who seemed to want something from him that he couldn't provide was another story.

As for his own shortcomings in that department, he refused to start even thinking about them.

He hadn't missed the look on Eren's face that night. Whatever it meant was irrelevant. Levi understood that Eren wanted them to be close, at least as friends, and possibly more. But in what manner wasn't important. Relationships, no matter their nature, weren't something Levi envisioned in his future. They weren't even something he wanted for himself.

Levi sighed and turned around until he was resting on his side. As he settled into his blanket, the light he could see outside shifted. A passing car, probably. The green letters of the digital clock on the stool he used as his bedside table glowed in the dark. It was nearly three in the morning, a little over an hour since he'd woken up from yet another dream he'd rather not remember.

Tired, he closed his eyes. He'd been dozing off since then, hovering between sleep and waking. He wasn't even sure he wanted to go back to sleep. Unwanted dreams couldn't reach him when he was awake. Not that being alone with his thought was much better, but he could at least try to distract himself.

Levi didn't understand. He had nothing to offer, no ambition in his life other than day-to-day survival. He had no redeeming qualities. And yet, Eren was still there. Like Gisele, he saw something in Levi that left the latter bewildered. Those two seemed to like his company, and even to seek it. They were probably not all that right in the head.

The previous day, he'd finally decided to reply to Eren's texts. The increasing desperation behind each message was almost palpable, despite the fact Eren had given no such indication – not in words, anyway. He hadn't even sent that many to begin with, and his tone was perfectly casual. Maybe it was all in Levi's head. His curt reply had seemed to be enough for Eren, and they were back to texting regularly as if nothing had ever happened.

And yet, there was now something subtle, a layer so sheer it was almost transparent, to Eren's interactions with Levi. Not that he was guarded or coy – Eren seemed incapable of that, too honest to be anything but himself. He was just being peculiarly delicate, mindful of Levi's feeling and boundaries. This was new. Had Eren always be this considerate? His behavior since their nightly visit to the cemetery had only suffered minute shifts, at best. Only a trained eye would notice them, and Levi didn't know if what he saw was there or simply a reflection of his own reservations.

Levi planned on ignoring it all and acting as if nothing had changed for as long as he could get away with. Fortunately, Eren didn't seem ready to act on whatever he wanted from Levi yet. Possibly ever.

He turned around again and opened his eyes, now facing away from the window. The room was dark, but he could make out the outlines of furniture. There was not much to see, anyway. The door leading to his tiny bathroom was shut. There was nothing lying around, no mess. It was all put away behind the closed doors of his closet. It wasn't even full. He didn't have much.

Annoyed, he threw the blankets away. He'd been cold minutes ago. Now he was too warm. His insomnia had been better for a while, but he'd had trouble falling asleep every single night for the past few days. Worse, whenever he'd been able to fall asleep early, he'd woken up in the middle of the night. He just wanted to sleep. He felt exhausted. Why was it so hard?

He'd toyed with the thought of going for a run when it happened, inspired by Eren's own battle against sleep deprivation. But he knew Eren lived nearby. He didn't want to risk running into him on a deserted street with no distraction, making the subtle connection binding them all the more obvious in the quiet of the night.

Meeting during the day, surrounded by light and people, was easier. It made the shadows recede, made it easier to maintain the status quo.

Levi shouldn't have let things reach that point. He should have stayed away from the beginning. But he hadn't. He'd thought holding Eren at arm's length from the start would be good enough, in spite of how unwilling he'd been to have anything to do with the kid. And here he was, now, thinking about him in the middle of the night instead of getting rest.

Was it wrong of him to want a friend? It was selfish, and a disaster waiting to happen, but Levi couldn't help it. Against his best judgment, he found that he didn't want to let go. The kid was genuine to a fault and consistently kind to Levi. He seemed to get him, to understand and respect his need for distance like no one ever had before. It made him easy to be around, and Levi liked his company.

He hated himself for it.

* * *

He fell in and out of sleep until morning. He shut off his alarm clock before he could ring and go up to start his day.

Levi was putting on his clothes, which he'd neatly placed on an old chair – the only piece of furniture in his bedroom aside from his bed – the night before, the screen of his phone lit up.

 _Hey, I got coupons for a new dim sum restaurant._

Levi dropped his phone on the bed. He was combing through his hair when his phone lit up again.

 _The internet reviews are nice. Are you free on Friday?_

Levi knew he should refuse the invitation. Agreeing to meet would be a terrible idea.

 _They also serve special tea. You like tea, right?_

Saying no to Eren had ever been easy to begin with.

* * *

A few days later, Levi joined Eren near the subway station closest to the restaurant.

When he arrived – walking, because subway trains were even worse than buses – Eren was already there, talking on the phone.

"I know, but –" he was saying, looking a little annoyed. "No, I understand."

When he saw Levi, his face relaxed in an easy smile. He gestured for him to wait.

"Yeah, of course," he said, his voice softer. "All right. I'll tell you as soon as I know. Okay. Me too."

He hung up and turned towards Levi.

"Hey," he said. "How's it going?"

Levi shrugged at Eren but didn't answer.

They started walking towards the restaurant. Eren was uncharacteristically silent. He seemed lost in his thoughts, a small frown darkening his face in the cold winter evening.

They soon arrived at the restaurant, but Eren lingered outside. Levi was about to ask him what was wrong when Eren finally opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm – well," he said. "Something came up and I have a lot on my mind." He sighed, the frown on his face deepening.

"Was that your mom on the phone?" Levi asked after a bit.

"Yeah," Eren said. "She wants me to go home for the holidays, but I don't really have the money."

Levi didn't answer right away, eyes on the pavement.

"Is it the right time to eat at a restaurant?" he said.

Eren chuckled, looking embarrassed.

"Nah. A night out isn't gonna make a difference, and this place is cheap." He was scratching at the palm of his left hand. "Come on, let's go."

Eren led Levi inside. They remained silent until they were seated and browsing the menu.

"It's not just money, you know," Eren said. "I have exams I need to study for. I get by all right, but I can only work part-time. I just don't make enough to travel there on a regular basis."

Levi hummed in reply.

"It's not like I don't want to go. I hate leaving her to spend Christmas on her own. But I don't want her to pay for that trip either, you know?" He sighed. "We have that same discussion every year. She's always trying to help by giving me money."

They were interrupted as a waiter came to take their orders.

"I'm not mad at her," he went on after the waiter was gone. "But she doesn't have much to start with."

"She's your mom, though," Levi said. "Of course, she wants to have you home on Christmas."

Eren sighed.

"I know. I usually visit her in January, when exams are over. I make a lot by working on Christmas and New Year's."

The waiter came back with Levi's tea and a pitcher filled with tap water for Eren.

"So you'll be alone on Christmas?" Levi asked when they were alone again.

"Well, yeah," Eren said, pouring himself a glass of water.

Eren averted his eyes and fell silent after that. He fiddled with his glass. Levi wondered why he seemed so tense. He supposed that being alone on Christmas would be something people could feel awkward about. Levi himself didn't have anyone willing to spend that time with him. No family left, and no friends. He didn't really care for Christmas anyway, so it was fine.

Eren didn't know that. Levi wanted to tell him, hoping it would make him feel better. But he didn't want Eren to suggest something nice and stupid. Like spending the day together.

"I don't celebrate Christmas," he finally said.

It seemed like a good compromise.

"Yeah," Eren said.

Their food arrived, providing a welcome distraction from the tense atmosphere, and Levi dug in. Like the tea, the dim sum was good. They ate in silence for a while. Levi noticed that Eren was picking at his food, but didn't comment. Eren would talk if he wanted to, when he felt ready. He didn't need any prompting.

"You know," Eren eventually said, "I'm not someone who makes friends easily."

Levi glanced up at him from behind his cup of tea.

"You could have fooled me," he said. "You were pretty persistent."

He'd barely stopped talking when he realized what his words implied. They weren't friends, he thought. Not yet. But if Eren kept asking him out on a regular basis, if Levi kept on saying yes like he had in the past weeks, they might be, someday. At least, Eren would come to think of Levi as a friend, if it wasn't already too late.

Eren interrupted that line of thought.

"Was I?" Eren asked with a small grin that made him look a little embarrassed. "It's true, though."

"How so?"

Eren didn't answer, munching on one of his dumplings.

"When I was younger," he started after swallowing his food, "I was always angry. At everyone – my dad for leaving, the kids at school who'd make fun of me because of that, my mom for working so hard and never being home. But most of all, I was angry at myself. For letting it all affect me so much, for being so useless… Most of the time, I didn't even know why. There were too many reasons and none at once."

Eren paused, staring at his plate as he poked a juicy dumpling in the side.

"It was hard to make friends. Harder to keep them. And then, the nightmares started. Terrible ones."

He glanced at Levi, before focusing on his plate again.

"I got in too many fights. My mom had me see someone for a while because of that," he added. "I don't remember how it happened, but everyone in school somehow knew. I'd been the weird angry kid with no dad before that. Adding 'nutcase' to that didn't help."

Eren fell silent and resumed eating as Levi sipped on his tea. Eren didn't seem to be used to chopsticks, not always managing to bring food all the way to his mouth. As he dropped yet another shumai dumpling, Eren noticed that Levi was watching him. Levi didn't break eye contact, drinking more tea as they stared at each other.

"Yes?" Eren asked after swallowing the last of his meal.

But Levi shrugged. A smile skimmed over Eren's lips, weak and ephemeral-looking. To Levi's surprise, it remained there as Eren spoke again.

"We moved away when I was in middle school," he said, placing his chopsticks on the table. "Nobody knew me. I did whatever I needed to keep it that way. I could keep myself in check by then, but I was always scared to lose it again."

Eren's hands were on his lap, hidden from view by the table between them. Levi saw his arms twitch. Eren was scratching at his palm again.

"Even nowadays," Eren said, glancing at Levi before letting his gaze fall to his lap, "it's complicated. My mom says I'm too serious, that I don't know how to have fun. She says I try to hard. She's right, but I don't know. Maybe I just don't click with people."

Eren took a deep breath and looked at Levi. He was frowning, but there was something hopeful, painfully honest about his face in that moment.

"It's different with you, though," he said. "Somehow, I feel like you get me. It's weird, I know. We don't know each other all that well, but you always know how to help me feel better. And you always listen. Like I matter."

Levi didn't know what to say, but Eren didn't seem to expect a reply.

"And I hope," he added, "that someday, I can do the same for you."

Levi dropped his eyes to his plate. Half of his dumplings remained uneaten, but he was already full.

Levi was silent as they paid for their meal. They exited the restaurant and walked towards the subway station. Levi kept his eyes on the pavement. He thought that maybe, if he could remain perfectly silent, after a while, people would stop noticing him, and it would be almost like he wasn't there. Vanishing entirely, not just so people would be unable to see you but make them completely forget they'd ever met you, as if you'd never even existed, was a fascinating notion.

"Let's walk," he said abruptly.

Eren, who'd been lost in his thoughts, turned to face Levi.

"Walk?" he said.

Looking ahead, Levi nodded.

"Where to?" Eren asked.

Levi glanced at him. Eren smiled but looked unconvinced.

"Our station," Levi said.

"It's a forty minutes walk."

"Yep," was Levi's answer.

He was already walking. It was better than taking the subway, even if at this hour, it'd be almost empty.

"It's freezing," Eren said as he caught up.

"I'm aware."

Eren looked ready to protest, but seemed to decide against it.

They fell silent after that. They walked past the nearby station, but none of them stopped. Levi just kept on walking, and Eren followed.

They walked and walked, Eren sometimes breaking the silence, but Levi didn't feel like talking and offered monosyllabic replies. Eren seemed to understand and remained quiet after a while.

They passed their station and went in the general direction of Eren's apartment. Eren still didn't know where Levi lived, but he seemed to suspect it wasn't far from his own place and didn't say anything.

When they reached the street corner where they'd usually part ways, Levi found himself unable to repress shivers. He was starting to understand why Eren had looked a little concerned earlier. Eren was wearing a warm coat, as well as a plush wool scarf and matching gloves. Levi was only wearing a cheap anorak and his thin scarf didn't do much against the cold. He was freezing his ass off.

Eren, who was walking a step behind him, put a gentle hand on his elbow. Levi turned to look at him.

"You know, you're kind of stubborn," Eren said, frowning.

Levi glared at him as he took his scarf off.

"What the hell are you doing," he asked.

It wasn't really a question. Levi knew what Eren was doing.

How thoughtful, Levi thought as Eren wrapped his thick scarf around his neck, making him feel warmer instantly. But Levi knew better than to try and fool himself. Eren was always nice to him. Always patient, in his own fashion, despite the fact he was so obviously not.

"You should dress warmer," Eren said, arranging the scarf around Levi's head. "It's almost December. I wouldn't be surprised if it started snowing soon."

Levi nodded, feeling weirdly numb, possibly because of the cold. Eren's hands, now feeling around his freezing ears and brushing them with gentle fingers covered in soft wool, weren't helping at all. Once again, Levi found he wanted to disappear.

Glancing up at Eren was a mistake, probably. He was watching Levi with a peculiar look on his face. There was a subtle smile on his lips, but it was too faint to really reach his eyes. Levi thought he looked sad.

It didn't register that Eren was leaning towards him at first, until a flicker of his gaze towards Levi's lips made his intentions clear. Eren didn't break eye contact after that, but his hold on Levi's face remained light, almost delicate. Levi could move away at any time, if he so wanted.

But Levi didn't know what he wanted, and he didn't move.

Eren's lips were cold and soft. Lip balm made them glide against Levi's like there was nothing but air against his skin. He could feel Eren's breath against his face, ghosting his skin like remnants of a dream long forgotten.

Levi let himself be kissed. He stood there, eyes closed, perfectly still, frozen like a misshapen ice sculpture made by someone who had no idea how to hold a chisel.

Levi was cold and second-guessing himself.

Eren's lips felt light, tentative and cautious. They were asking a question.

He held no answer. In his mind, the only thought left was a never-ending twirl of the same string of question.

Why? This was never supposed to happen, so, why? How had things come to this? Why was he letting Eren do it? Why couldn't he move away from him? Why wasn't he rejecting him? Why hadn't he done that right from the start? And when had Eren started to think of him like this?

A gentle flick of moisture against the middle of his bottom lip had Levi move at last. Eren's tongue was pleasant against his mouth, contrasting with the surrounding cold, and Levi was suddenly starved for warmth. Without thinking, he opened his mouth to allow Eren inside.

It felt all wrong. He'd tensed up in anticipation of an onslaught, knowing he could withstand it. But Eren was nothing but warm and gentle. Levi had never known Eren was capable of that. His hold on the sides of Levi's head was light, the graze of his tongue against Levi's, even lighter. The assault on Levi's mouth was soft but devastating, crushing Levi's resolve and rendering the effort he put into building his defenses utterly fruitless, until he couldn't do anything else but lean into it.

This was no good. No good at all.

Levi's lungs seized, and he broke the kiss. Eren let him go as he leaned away.

Levi took a moment to catch his breath and regain his bearings. Without Eren shielding him against the night, he felt the cold again. Levi stuck his hands into his pockets and he heard Eren clear his throat. When he looked up, Levi found he was being watched.

Eren mirrored Levi's posture, his hands hidden away in the pockets of his coat. He held Levi's gaze for a bit, but ultimately averted his eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something, but remained silent.

Levi wished for the ground to swallow him.

After a while, Eren took a deep breath.

"Thanks for tonight," he said, sounding hesitant. "Text me later?"

Levi shrugged, and Eren smiled. Again, it was a small, sad thing of a smile.

Levi didn't stay to see it waver.


	6. Second Law of Motion

The next two weeks seemed to drag on, despite the fact that Eren didn't have much time for himself.

With November gone, the end of year holidays were looming near. Eren had doubled his usual shifts at the store, and he was busy studying for his exams. He'd d taken on spending time in the local library whenever he had time earlier that year, but it was impossible these days. Most of his waking time was filled with present wrapping, and the library closed at six every day. So, he studied at night. Not that he slept much at all.

He was so busy that he didn't get to spend much time at his apartment either. He couldn't say he cared. He wasn't especially fond of the place, anyway. It was small and a little worn out, rough around the corners with paper thin walls and noisy neighbors. It had never been home. Home was with his mom back in the country. Nevertheless, it was functional. It had been good enough since he'd moved in.

But these days, his apartment seemed unwelcoming. The heater was broken, and despite his increasingly desperate calls to his landlord, it had yet to be fixed. The sun warmed the place during the day, but as soon as it set, the warmth disappeared, leaving Eren to freeze his ass off. Too cold at night, too run-down during the day. Too empty at all times, despite the fact that Eren had managed to cram all his stuff in the tiny, single room.

Because of the cold and the upcoming exams, it was hard to fall asleep at night. While it prevented the nightmares, it didn't help with unwanted thoughts.

Eren had tried texting Levi at first, but Levi hadn't replied since the dim sum restaurant, not even once. After a while, Eren had decided that maybe it was better to give Levi space and let him decide when to get in touch. If he ever did, which seemed less and less likely with each passing day. Eren was starting to think he'd made a mistake.

It was fine, he told himself, if Levi wanted to be no more than friends. Eren didn't mind. He had thought about it, before he had kissed Levi. He'd believed he would be fine with never letting Levi know, as long as they remained part of one another's life. He would remain silent about his feelings to avoid complications. He'd truly thought it'd be okay.

But that night at the restaurant and afterward, as they were walking home, something in Levi's behavior had led Eren to reconsider. Looking at the resulting mess, he must have misread the mood. But Levi had kissed him back, hadn't he? It confused Eren to no end.

He'd consider himself lucky if Levi ever talked to him again.

He couldn't even blame Levi. It wasn't Levi's fault if Eren had thought he was sending mixed signals. He'd even warned him the second time they'd met. He'd only implied it, but he'd still made it clear that he wasn't game for anything of romantic nature. But of course, Eren had to ruin it all. Wine and dine, indeed.

He didn't regret trying to convey what he felt to Levi, even if it had been an awkward, clumsy attempt. Keeping his feelings to himself hadn't been the greatest idea to begin with – he knew himself to be way too impulsive for that. He just wished Levi would agree to talk about it – or anything else, really. It'd be best if they did, but to be perfectly honest, Eren would be happy if Levi wanted to pretend it had never happened. Eren might want Levi in more ways he'd like to admit, but he mostly wanted him around, at least sometimes, more than anything else. Even if it meant he had to keep his feelings to himself.

At least, that was what he tried to tell himself. He wanted Levi around all the time. As hard as he was trying, Eren couldn't pretend otherwise.

And so, Eren was going on with his life, trying and failing not to think about Levi all day long, and playing catch up with his runaway sleep.

* * *

The gigantic trees were too tall to allow much sunlight. The air rushing around his ears smelled of moisture and rotting leaves, of horse and fear. He couldn't see the faces of his companions, but they all had the same tense air about them as they rode through the forest. Four of them were surrounding Eren. At the front of their party, a lone rider was leading them. The man – captain, Eren suddenly knew, he was their captain – was facing forward, away from Eren. Just like the others, he couldn't see his face.

He was the main reason Eren felt even remotely safe in this place. Eren knew he was the strongest of them all.

Eren didn't know which, of the familiar strangers around him, the uncanny situation he was finding himself in or the utter lack of sounds around him, gave rise to that strange thought. But somehow, he suddenly knew he was dreaming. It was unusual, though it had happened before, but it didn't matter. Just like he knew that this was all a dream, he also knew that he was powerless to alter its course.

Something was running after them. Eren could hear it, could even feel the heavy footsteps, reverberating through the air, so massive and formidable that he could feel the vibrations through his teeth. It was one of those hungry things, but this one was different. He would meet this one again, but to his dream self, riding through the forest with the others, that knowledge was part of a dark future yet to come.

Others were chasing the thing, trying to stop it's marching upon their small group of riders. He could hear several soldiers zipping through the air behind him. Eren somehow knew none of these people would survive the confrontation, and it filled him with dread. There was no way to change the past, and yet, he found himself wanting to stop running and help. And just like him, the people riding along him ached to fight, to avenge. But that wasn't their mission. Their leader wouldn't let them forget.

A choice was offered to him. A decision had to be made. Now was a test of trust. Eren could feel himself grit his teeth and forge ahead. Despite his doubts, he wanted to believe in his companions, in these people who barely knew him but would give their lives to protect him. And they would – yet another thing he wasn't supposed to know. They would die trying to protect him, and he would miss them. Grief filled his mouth with a bitter taste.

His dream self seemed torn and uncertain about his decision, but Eren, with the lucidity brought on by this dream of events long past, knew that he aspired to be like them. He envied the trust they had for each other, trust that had roots so deep, weaved by shared experiences and longtime companionship, that it didn't need words. He aspired to trust them and be trusted by them, with the same kind of unwavering certainty that had nothing to do with friendship and blood ties, in return. He wanted to believe that he could have with his squad the same kind of bond he'd forged with Armin and Mikasa.

He turned his eyes forwards and was met with a pair of wings etched in green fabric. The cape of the man riding at the front was billowing in the rush to escape their pursuer.

More than anything else, he wanted this man's acknowledgment. Eren's admiration for the captain, who was cold and distant but would sometimes speak of Eren in cryptic but weirdly approving terms, kept growing with each passing day. He knew that, more than the symbol, he would follow the man to the bitter end and beyond.

Was it a trick of the light, or maybe his mind playing games with him, filling in blanks with random pieces of information retrieved from recent memories, treacherous synapses mixing the old and the new to create the realm of Eren's dreams? He didn't know. But when they next crossed a rare patch of light that the thick foliage let in, it revealed a glimpse of dark hair – proper black, not dark brown like he'd thought at first.

He moved forwards, as if catching up and riding past the captain. He saw his face, fine features and attentive grey eyes that looked right back at him, and recognized him.

The dream fractured.

In the scattering fragments, he held onto that piece of knowledge like a man underwater seeking the light, wishing to bring it back with him to the surface where fresh air was waiting, to the waking world.

* * *

He opened his eyes to bright red and white lights from the adverts right next to his window, making strange shapes on the cracked paint of the ceiling. Red, like danger and the smell of fresh blood that hadn't quite remained in the land of his dreams. White, like the blinding sun peeking through the leaves, bright like the clarity brought on by a flash of lightning, akin to a revelation.

He sat up in his bed and was hit by a wave of dizziness. His head felt heavy, his mind not completely awake as he got up to fetch himself a glass of cool water. He took long, greedy gulps. The fresh liquid going down his parched throat brought him relief but didn't manage to entirely clear his mind.

Stupid dream, he thought. Stupid brain, unilaterally deciding to put Levi's features on the face of a stranger that had nothing to do with him. He drowned the last of his drink. He was pouring himself another one when an uncanny thought came to his mind.

He'd recognized Levi the first time they had met, but he'd never figured out where he'd seen him before then. Had Levi always been in his dreams? Was that where he'd seen him? Had Eren always been dreaming of him, unable to see his face?

No. It was ridiculous. His brain had simply taken advantage of the fact he missed Levi to sneak him into a random dream. He'd dreamt about Levi before, but those, as steamy and confusing as they'd been, had nothing to do with the creatures of his nightmares. Besides, he'd been closer to Petra at that point in time, so why couldn't he see her face as well?

With that thought, something deep within Eren froze.

How did he know Petra's name? How could he know? How did she even have a name? Petra, whoever she was, just like every single person who appeared in his dreams, was a figment of his imagination, a creation of his brain to fill in for the things his subconscious was trying to tell him. She wasn't real. She couldn't be real.

But, he wondered, if she wasn't real, if he'd never seen her face, why could his mind conjure soft brown eyes and light hair that caught sunlight? Why could he suddenly remember her face, after all those years? Why did he know how her voice had sounded? What her hands, gentle but holding enough strength to kill if needed, grazed by accidents on a laundry day, had felt like? How she'd shared the trust Eren had envied with him, despite her doubts?

Why could he remember how she'd died?

Eren's grip on his glass faltered and he dropped it. It fell against the edge of the sink, but he didn't notice it breaking, didn't notice the shards scattering on the floor.

He could remember now – no, not remember, he just knew, because how could he ever forget something he'd known all along? The knowledge had always been there, hidden yet available in case he wanted to look – he simply never thought to just look.

His head hurt, and he felt faint. There was so much of it, and it was all flooding his mind like an overwhelming tidal wave and he wasn't –

– scared. They all looked scared, drawn weapons held in hands rendered white-knuckled by strain, and he was sad. Sad because he'd thought, he'd hoped he was part of the squad, one of them. But more than anything else, he was scared too, afraid that after all, he was really a monster. Afraid of losing control and hurting someone and being killed. Maybe they were right to be scared. Maybe they were right and he just had to accept –

– Petra's haunted eyes as she apologized for her distrust. He wanted to tell her, to tell all of them that it was okay, that he understood. He couldn't find it in himself to resent them. They had every right to be wary of him. The captain had been very clear about that. The bite mark on Petra's hand was an angry red. It seemed to hurt. He wanted to cradle her small, bruised hand in his and brush away the pain. Of the whole squad, she'd been the one who'd made him feel the most welcome, and he knew that –

– the captain wasn't afraid. He remained calm, trying to assuage, to protect. He would always protect, always –

– protect, of course, and when he couldn't, he would try to cheer Eren up with lame jokes. He had the shittiest sense of humor, yet always, Eren would laugh, even if he was sad, even if he felt hollow. Because even after he'd failed protecting his squad, the captain had never given up on Eren and had kept trying, always. So Eren would keep trying as well, because this was his captain, and he wanted to give him the best he had, he would always –

Eren blinked into the quiet darkness of his apartment to sharp pain in his hands and knees. He was on the floor, a few pieces of glass digging painfully into his skin. He couldn't remember when he'd fallen down. He kneeled back and raised his hand, staring at his palms. He was bleeding. So much blood. So much –

– blood. All around him, it was only death and gore, and he felt like retching. But the rage he felt was stronger and it couldn't end like this, couldn't –

– understand the weak-willed who thought living within walls would protect them. He'd stared death in the eye and knew that there was no safe place in this world, no respite from despair, no. All that was left was rage and determination and he would kill them all and he would avenge and –

– protect everything that mattered to him because what else could he do –

He managed to get onto his feet and turn towards the kitchen sink before throwing up. It was only water, whatever little amount he'd drank earlier. It stopped abruptly, and he coughed.

He turned the water on with a shaky hand, smearing blood all over the faucet. He let the water wash away the tiny pieces of shattered glass at the bottom of the sink. He wondered if he'd be washed away, too, if he left it on long enough to fill the room. He couldn't help but snicker at that incongruous thought, because there was no way he could –

– reach out, despite knowing it was useless. He'd tried breaking her out of her crystal prison, but nothing had worked. He couldn't get any reaction out of her. She just stood there, eyelashes drawing shadows on her cheeks, untouchable, lost to the world. It hurt. It hurt so much. Why, Annie? Why did you –

– destroy wall Maria, killing so many and reducing humanity to this, sentencing everyone to a slow, painful extinction within a cage? The piece of knowledge hadn't registered at first – so much was happening. Then, for a short, sharp moment, the excruciating sadness caused by lies and betrayal filled him, making his eyes prickle and spill out. But already, his jaw was clenching, and the hurt was replaced by overwhelming rage. They would pay. He would make them pay. He bit into his hand and –

– ran, ran as fast as his short legs would take him, and it still wasn't fast enough. He was too small, too powerless to stop the titan from –

Eren gasped and coughed, feeling as if he was underwater and was struggling to reach the surface. He couldn't breathe. He didn't notice he was falling, didn't feel the pain of his awkward crash against the floor, nor did he mind the tiny pieces of glass digging into the side of his face.

A pitiful whine escaped from his lips. "Mommy," he said, unable to stop the sobs from tearing through his chest, no more than the tears that were pouring down.

But no, some distant part of him thought, his mom was sound and safe in their small townhouse, probably asleep at this hour. She was fine. She had to be.

He needed to call her, to check on her. Make sure she was okay. He had to –

– save Armin. Everyone else was gone already, and he had to, needed to do something, to save someone. He couldn't let Armin die. Ignoring the excruciating pain where his right leg had been, he sat up and launched his grappling cables. Everything hurt, even the friction from the air rushing against his skin, but –

– so many, dead, so much grief and his head couldn't possibly withstand –

He felt something cutting into his temple when he tried to curl up on the floor. He couldn't stay like this. He couldn't bring himself to care right now, but he knew he'd have enough trouble trying to explain his state at work.

Every move was strenuous, but he managed to sit up. Not trusting his legs, he crawled towards his bed, further cutting his hands and knees. He collapsed onto the sheets, aware that they were toast anyway, because he was smearing blood everywhere. He didn't have it in himself to care right now.

His phone was on a stool by his bed. He reached out but blood made his hand slippery, and the phone fell to the floor. He knew he had some tissues nearby, but his fumbling around brought nothing, neither tissues or phone. It was so dark here, and the –

– rage inside him threatened to overwhelm and spill, desperate and bordering on rapture. He managed reigning it in, shaking as he focused on regaining his bearing. His eyes met Captain Levi's. They were shining with something he couldn't decipher. He didn't understand anything anymore, but –

– Levi's face, undergoing a subtle shift, and then he was smiling, rare and precious, and he knew he was staring, but he wasn't the only one. Even –

– the feeling of Mikasa's arms around him was grounding. She annoyed him sometimes, being so overprotective. He wasn't a little kid anymore. But he loved her. She was his family. She and Armin were his anchors in a world that was cruel. Without them, he wouldn't –

– Armin. Armin reading, Armin shaking and crying, Armin, face sporting that sad smile of his that rarely managed to reach his eyes, Armin smiling at him for real and coming up with a plan when all seemed lost, saving everyone, Armin dead, dying, and grief that seemed like it belonged to someone else, and –

– there was nothing he could do this time. There was no dying in Armin's place, no swaying the Captain's decision to give the injection to the Commander. But Mikasa, she was standing tall, eyes hard like concrete, towering over Levi, blades in hand, and she'd always been so strong and beautiful, even as a child, and Eren couldn't help but admire –

– Levi's form as he flew through the air in a swirling motion, perfect and lethal, and sliced a titan into bits and pieces –

– Levi's hand, steady on Eren's shoulder, silently reminding him that he wasn't alone –

– Levi's eyes, calm and attentive, more expressive than most people would think, watching, listening with seemingly infinite patience, telling Eren without words that he was cared for, that he mattered –

– Levi always there for Eren to rely on, protecting him –

– Levi, face conflicted, drenched in blood –

– Levi, standing tall in the sunset, the wings of freedom billowing at his back.


	7. Geodesic deviation

Winter was at the doorstep, but it wasn't snowing yet. In fact, the weather had turned to rain and remained that way for a long, humid week. It had caused floods in several areas, which in turn had increased Levi's workload.

Levi's job wasn't usually that intense at this time of year. He would spend most of late Autumn filling in claims pertaining to fires or carbon monoxide poisoning. People were always eager to light the first fire of the year, but they often forgot to check that their chimney pipes weren't clogged up. Or they forgot that they'd never had them cleaned during the summer.

It didn't matter to Levi if this year's thing was fires or floods, or that he was drowning in paperwork. He welcomed the distraction.

Even with the increased amount of reports to handle, each day came and went without surprise. Levi woke up, went to work, and returned home. He went for a run in the evenings, aside from the week of torrential downpour.

Levi didn't particularly like running – he only did it in the hopes it'd help him sleep better – but after a week without, he was feeling unusually restless. Which was fucking stupid, because running didn't seem to help much anymore in general. No matter how long, how fast he ran, no matter how exhausted he felt when coming back home, he couldn't fall asleep before morning. And that was when he could sleep at all.

The problem was that, while his job was as mind-numbing as it could get, it didn't tire his body, whereas running lowered his energy levels, but left his mind free to wander unfettered. Neither helped his fucked up sleeping schedule.

These days, his mind was busy thinking about green eyes gleaming with unrestrained affection. He thought about sharp features rendered soft with patience and devotion – things that were never directed at him before. He daydreamed about lips, trembling with something like want, that knew to draw back when they sensed hesitation.

Nobody had ever treated him with such care. It was new, destabilizing. Flattering, too, to be able to put a look like that in Eren's eyes. Levi couldn't stop thinking about him, no matter how hard he tried not to. No amount of running could change that.

Letting Eren kiss him had been a mistake. But Levi didn't let himself regret it. He'd messed up. He'd have to live with the consequences. It was wrong to give Eren any hope.

Giving hope to himself wasn't much better.

He knew they'd have to talk, but he didn't know to speak to Eren about it. So, until he figured out exactly what he wanted to say, and how he wanted to say it, he didn't try to contact him. He wasn't trying to ignore the problem – he'd be doing a poor job of it, anyway, as he couldn't stop thinking about him. He only needed some time.

Incidentally, Eren wasn't texting him either. Even after two weeks of silence, Levi wasn't worried; he knew Eren's exams were starting soon. It was better for Eren to focus on them. They could talk about it all later.

* * *

On a cold Friday night, the week before the Christmas holidays, Levi was watching Netflix on his laptop – an old, humorous wartime movie that his mother had loved. He'd seen it a hundred times at least, perfect background entertainment that he didn't need to focus on. Images and dialog came and went, processed with the force of habit and soon forgotten, barely registered. Familiarity brought a peculiar form of comfort, and Levi wasn't picky, especially not these days.

It was late, almost midnight. He'd declined Gisele's invitation to an after work drink because he was tired, but even now, watching the familiar, soothing movie, he couldn't fall asleep.

The soundtrack was swelling as an emotional scene unraveled on the screen, which was probably why he didn't notice his phone going off at first. It was still ringing when the music quieted, and he finally noticed, heart jumping in his chest. He almost fell off the old couch in his rush to grab his messenger bag. He'd been leaving his phone in there lately since he didn't use it to text Eren anymore. It was better than having the thing under his nose at all times, goading him into checking for new messages.

He was fishing his phone from the confines of his small bag when it stopped ringing. Levi looked at the screen. Just as he'd thought, the call had been from Eren. There wasn't really anyone else who would ever get in touch with him.

He stood there for a bit, then took his phone with him as he sat back down in front of his laptop.

After a few minutes, it became clear Eren wasn't going to call again. Levi wondered if he should be the one calling back, though he didn't really want to, not yet. He still didn't know how to handle the inevitable conversation with Eren. Why had Eren called in the first place, anyway? He hadn't even left anything on voicemail. He felt like he was being tested, by Eren or even some sort of fate, and whether he called back would potentially turn his whole life around.

Levi snorted, thumb hovering over the call button. He didn't believe in fate and doubted it was in Eren's nature to test people like that. He was too honest, not manipulative in the slightest.

He had to decide. It felt to Levi that, with each second ticking away, his thumb was getting closer to his phone's call button, while Eren was getting further and further away. Maybe that was what Levi wanted. Maybe it wasn't. Or maybe they didn't need to talk right now. Maybe he could call Eren and just listen to the sound of his voice. But no, Eren wouldn't let him. Eren would want answers.

And yet, Levi was wondering if Eren wouldn't let him get away with it, in the end.

He startled when his phone went off again, hitting the reply button by accident. He didn't have time to plan; he had no idea what he was going to say. Seconds were trickling down on his phone screen.

"Levi?"

Eren's voice sounded thin in the tiny speaker.

Levi brought his phone to his ear.

"Yes."

He hoped his voice didn't convey how unprepared he was for all this, how uncertain he felt.

There was a sigh and then, a long pause. Eren remained silent for so long that Levi double-checked his screen, almost sure he'd hung up. Just as he was about to speak up, he heard Eren take a deep, shaky breath. For the first time, Levi didn't wonder whether Eren was angry or not. Instead, he wondered if Eren was all right.

"I," Eren said, stopping before even forming a proper sentence, but even with a single syllable, Levi could tell something was wrong.

"Can we meet?" Eren said after a while, sounding a little breathless.

Levi let a few seconds pass before answering.

"Now?" he said, knowing Eren wouldn't be calling him at midnight if he wanted to meet next Thursday.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

"Yes. Please."

Throat tight, Levi breathed in.

"Okay."

* * *

It's okay, Levi told himself on the way to the cemetery. He told himself everything would be fine, that Eren simply wanted to know where they stood. Even if he was forced to make a decision tonight, it would be okay. All he had to do was properly reject Eren. Levi didn't want to hurt him – if it wasn't already too late – but he knew that Eren would be okay, eventually. Even if Levi's rejection made him unhappy at first. Even throughout the anxiety the upcoming discussion caused him, Levi felt strangely numb about it. It had to be done.

When he arrived at their meeting point, Eren was already there. He was sitting on a bench, facing away from the nearby wall with his back slightly hunched, as if burdened by its presence. He was staring at the pavement, eyes hazy.

Sitting on that bench in the middle of the night with the cemetery wall looming behind him, Eren looked lost.

Levi slowed down as he reached the bench. When Eren didn't seem to notice him there, he stood right in front of him until Eren raised his head.

He wore a complex expression that Levi couldn't decipher. A deep frown adorned his youthful face, making him look older, lips pressed into a tense line with something that could be anxiety or anger. His eyelids were puffy. Levi couldn't see if they were red in the faint light from the nearby streetlamp, but Eren looked like he'd been crying. There was a couple of large bandaids on the left side of his face. He wasn't wearing gloves, and Levi could see he'd cut his hands in several places as well. He looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

"What the hell happened to you?" Levi asked before he could stop himself.

Eren greeted Levi with a hopeful but sad look in his eyes. He opened his mouth, but closed it before speaking.

They stared at each other.

Levi waited. But Eren remained silent and just stared at him. Despite the unhappy look on his face, he seemed content to drink Levi in without a word.

"Levi," Eren said, voice cracking on the second syllable.

Levi wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't trust himself to talk. His throat had suddenly gone tight. He wished for the earlier numbness to come back.

Eren's fragile composure seemed to waver more and more with each passing second.

Things went on like that for a while, Eren watching and Levi waiting, both silent. After a moment, Eren moved, hiding his mouth behind a closed fist and looking away.

Levi's eyes, which had been watching Eren's hands, followed their motion until he was looking at Eren's face. Eren was smiling, he realized, or at least, his mouth was. It was a poor excuse of a smile, tiny and weak. His lips were trembling, and his eyes were brimming with unspilled tears.

"I'm sorry," Eren said in a shaky voice.

He was shivering all over. Levi had no idea what Eren was apologizing about or why he was shaking. He couldn't do much about frayed nerves, but it was too cold to be sitting on a bench in the middle of the night.

He stepped towards Eren and gently grasped his shoulder. Eren looked up at him, the sheer hope in his eyes almost unbearable. He looked so vulnerable like that.

The drive to protect, to shield from harm rose from the depths of Levi's heart, rooted in fragments of memories long suppressed, strong and devastating like a tidal wave. It was then that Levi knew. He knew, knew for certain and without any doubt that he couldn't let go just yet. He couldn't possibly live his life with Eren out of the picture for good. More than anything, he had to do right by Eren. He wasn't even sure he knew how to do that, where Eren was concerned.

As long as Eren wanted him around, anyway. He didn't know how long that would last.

But for now, he needed to get Eren to a warm place.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you home."

* * *

Levi led Eren through the dark streets until they reached his building. Eren kept touching him. A subtle touch on his shoulder, an inconspicuous hand at his elbow. When Eren took Levi's hand in his own, intertwined their fingers and held tight, Levi let him. He glanced up. Eren's gaze was intent on the ground. It was unlike him to act this subdued.

Gentle, he told himself, wondering if he was capable of that, and held onto Eren's hand.

Eren's apartment was even smaller than Levi's – it was really a single room. The walls were decrepit, as was the ceiling, with plaster apparent in several places. The linoleum floor was battered, crumbly at the corners near the doorstep and around the small kitchen area. The ratty couch had seen better days, and whatever plumbing was visible looked ancient.

Despite the wear and tear, it was obviously well cared for. The bed in the far corner was made, with clean sheets. There were no dishes in the sink aside from a single glass drying on the nearby rack. There was a wrinkled shirt hanging on the back of the room's sole chair, the only visible piece of dirty laundry. The apartment looked lived in, but not messy.

Levi turned towards Eren. In the yellow light of the overhead lamp, he could see how tired Eren was. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Do you have any tea in this dump?" he asked.

Eren's mouth tightened, and he nodded. He didn't look like he wanted to talk yet.

"Okay," Levi said, taking his coat off and hanging it over the lone shirt on the chair.

Levi busied himself in Eren's small kitchenette. There were only a couple of cupboards, and it was easy to find a box of teabags and an electric kettle.

Behind him, the apartment was silent. Levi didn't need to turn around to know that Eren was standing in the middle of the room.

"Take your fucking coat off and sit down, for fuck's sake," he said as he was filling the kettle at the sink.

He heard Eren sigh.

"Yes, Sir."

An irritated noise was Levi's only reaction.

He finally heard some shuffling, but Eren wasn't sitting down. Levi tensed as he felt two arms encircle him from behind. Eren's forehead dropped onto his shoulder, and he held Levi close.

Levi shut his eyes and swallowed with difficulty. Feeling inadequate, he patted Eren's hand, buried in Levi's sweater.

Right over his heart.

"Your hands are freezing," Levi said, fingertips grazing at Eren's cold skin in an awkward caress. "Let me work."

Eren nodded in Levi's neck and let go.

A few minutes later, Eren was on the couch, nursing a mug of warm tea. Levi sat beside him, his own mug on the rickety-looking side table, still too hot to drink.

"So," Levi started, his voice quiet, "what happened?"

Hands tightening around the mug, Eren shook his head. Once again, his face was all scrunched up. He looked like he was going to cry.

"What, don't wanna to talk about it?" Levi prompted, as if goading Eren into voicing whatever was bothering him would work.

Again, Eren shook his head.

"I don't know," Eren said. "I'm not sure how to explain."

Levi grit his teeth, unsure if what he felt was compassion or anxiety.

"It's all right," he said. "How long has it been since you last slept?"

Eren stared down at the linoleum. "Two days."

"Because you can't or because you won't?"

Eren took time to answer.

"Both," he said, voice cracking again, and shrugged instead of elaborating.

An awkward silence followed. Eren barely touched his tea, while Levi gulped his. He couldn't even taste it, the usual warmth and comfort barely registering. Drinking tea had never been so devoid of enjoyment for him. He'd been expecting a difficult conversation, but Eren wasn't talking, and Levi didn't know what to do to help him.

Maybe now wasn't the best time.

"Well," he finally said after a while, putting put his empty mug back on the side table, "you should get some sleep."

It was the best Levi could come up with, but he didn't know that it'd work well. Eren looked more and more anxious by the minute.

"You're going?" Eren asked when Levi stood up.

Levi turned around. He meant to retrieve his coat, but the look in Eren's eyes stopped him. It was subtle, some kind of repressed trepidation. Levi recognized panic, anguish. Loss, too. Tremendous, devastating loss. It didn't suit his youthful face. Levi never wanted to see that look in Eren's eyes ever again.

He really couldn't leave Eren alone, even if they didn't talk. Not like this.

"I'll stay," he said, sitting back on the couch. "But you should sleep."

The panic faded from Eren's eyes. The loss remained.

Eren had finished his tea, but he didn't move from the couch instead of complying and going to bed. Instead, he turned to face Levi and just stared. It was the same as outside, on the bench near the cemetery. It seemed he couldn't get enough of Levi's face.

He stared for a while, and Levi stared back, heart racing.

"I'm scared," Eren said without warning, "that you'll be gone when I wake up."

Levi didn't know what to say. Tongue leaden, he forced his lips apart.

"Would that be so bad?"

There it was again, the unfathomable loss that inhabited the depths of Eren's eyes. It pierced right through Levi, making air freeze in his lungs, around the bruising weight of his heart.

"I can't lose you again."

Battling the sudden urge to curl up into the back of the couch, Levi closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. His legs were sluggish. His whole body felt numb. He didn't even think he could leave, even if he truly wanted to.

"Let's get you into bed," he said.

Levi took Eren's hand and stood up. Gently pulling him off the couch, he led Eren towards the bed.

Eren didn't resist. He let Levi manhandle him to sit on the bed, to lie down. Levi went back to the couch and waited. When Eren kept staring at him instead of closing his eyes, he gave his best disapproving glare.

The room was silent for a while, and Eren couldn't seem to keep them open after all. His eyes finally closed, and his breathing soon turned deeper.

Levi was exhausted. He wanted to comfort Eren, but he was much too blunt for any kind of subtlety, impatient, and unwilling to compromise. It'd be better to leave, he thought, but at this point, it might do more harm than good. He'd never felt so helpless.

About an hour after Eren had fallen asleep, he started tossing and turning in his bed. He was breathing hard, hand gripping hard at his blanket, twitching. Levi watched him for a bit. When Eren stopped moving after a while, Levi closed his eyes and resumed trying – and failing – to nap.

A muffled whine made him sit up. Eren had been cold earlier, but his forehead was now glistening with a sheen of sweat. Mutters Levi couldn't make out passed through Eren's tight lips. It didn't seem so good. Levi left the couch to sit on the bed at Eren's side.

Eren's face was twisted in distress. As Levi watched, the motions of his limbs gradually subsided, until the only one left was the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His breath turned ragged, like sobs fighting to get out.

Levi had seen enough.

He reached for Eren. With a cautious hand, he brushed away the sweaty hair, fingers grazing against Eren's forehead.

"Wake up," he whispered. "It's just a nightmare."

Eren's breathing halted, before resuming its irregular pattern. Levi went on brushing his fingers through Eren's hair as he stirred, in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

Eren's breathing stuttered. He blinked awake as the first tears fell. He stared at Levi, unashamed by either the tears or the unattractive face he made. He didn't seem to care at all. He closed his eyes and hid his face against Levi's wrist in what would have been an affectionate gesture, hadn't Levi felt the moisture seeping through his cuffs.

"Is –", Eren managed to ask between shaky breaths, "is this – a dream?"

Another stab at Levi's heart – not so fucking stony, after all. His feeling of helplessness became overwhelming. There was nothing he could do, nothing but lie down next to Eren and draw him into an awkward hug.

"Just a dream," Levi said. "It's nothing."

Levi huffed, shifting around so that the position wasn't so uncomfortable. When he was satisfied, he slid his fingers back into Eren's hair.

"I'm sorry," Eren said from underneath Levi's chin, cracking voice muffled by the fabric of his sweater.

"What for," Levi said.

But Eren was gripping his sweater, holding him closer.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

He was shaking badly now, body racked by sobs, and there was nothing Levi could do but hold him tight.


	8. Bodies in motion

The captain was sitting nearby, sipping what was at least his fifth cup of tea. When they'd sat at the big table in the dining room, Eren had thought the captain would remain mostly silent. But surprisingly, he'd been entertaining Eren with renewed yet inconsistent conversation.

Eren was the one who was silent. Until now, Eren had believed that the captain didn't talk much because he didn't want to. It occurred to him then that maybe he just didn't know what to say.

The one-sided conversation occasionally dwindled, though, and Eren was left alone with his thoughts.

On one such occasion, he was waiting for the Captain to resume talking. But he waited and waited, and nothing happened. The silence remained unbroken this time. Unable to bear its weight – or maybe it was the weight of guilt – Eren opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said.

It wasn't what he'd wanted to say, but it was too late, the words out of his control.

He thought the captain would be annoyed at him, berate him maybe, or at least scowl harder. It wasn't the first time Eren apologized. It was, after all, his fault the whole squad was dead. They'd been the captain's companions, and he was pretty sure that he was mourning, in his own standoffish manner.

But the captain didn't react. He went on sipping his tea, undisturbed in the surrounding quiet, as if Eren hadn't spoken.

As if he wasn't there.

"I'm sorry," Eren repeated, louder, brushing his fingers against the palm of his opposite hand.

Major Hanji said the itch he sometimes felt there was caused by some kind of phantom pain. That the wound he inflicted on himself disappeared like they'd never been there, and that it confused his body.

He had to bite at the joint of his thumb to trigger the transformation. He bit hard, quickly cutting through his skin on the outside, so the wound was usually shallow, and it wasn't that sensitive to begin with. Since he healed once he was encased into his titan, he never really had enough time to feel the pain.

The palm side was another matter. It had more flesh, muscles and tendons. His teeth would sink deep into it. It hurt more, though it was still temporary. It would itch sometimes, and even hurt, especially at night.

Now it itched so bad that he almost wanted to bite it again, just it'd stop.

The captain still wasn't paying attention to him. Eren wished he would say something. Anything would do.

"I'm sorry," Eren repeated, his voice reverberating in the empty dining room. "It's my fault."

The captain, at last, gently set his cup on the table and looked at Eren. He stared, his face blank. The usual frown was absent from his features, but the light from the torches on the wall made his eyes flicker with live flames.

Eren's anger died on the tip of his tongue. The captain's face might look impassive, but his eyes – they told Eren otherwise. This was the face of a man who knew grief.

"Are you fucking kidding me," Levi said, voice firm but soft. "I said that you shouldn't apologize because it wasn't your fault."

Eren looked at his hands. He'd scratched his palm until it bled.

"I'm not sure I could've saved them," he said, watching blood run down his wrists. "But it feels like I didn't even try."

Levi let out a small noise, betraying his irritation with Eren.

"You never fucking listen,' Levi said, running a hand through his hair. "But maybe I shouldn't blame you."

Some nagging certainty grazed at Eren's mind. What was the captain saying? He wasn't supposed to say that – it hadn't happened that way. But the certainty left as it came, without leaving so much as a trace. Before the realization hit him, he got swept back into the memory – or the approximation of it – that was replaying in his dream.

"Why?" Eren asked.

Levi huffed, and Eren didn't know if he was laughing or sighing. His eyes were mirthless.

"Look at what guilt can do to someone," he said.

Eren didn't understand.

"What do you mean?"

Levi's laugh was a quiet sound coming from deep within his chest.

"Do as I fucking say, not as I do, eh? I've never been much of a role model anyway," he said, scowling at the stone floor. "Erwin saved me from despair, but I've never been the forgiving type, not even to myself."

With that said, Levi got up to make more tea, and Eren was left alone.

He was confused by Levi's words. He knew Levi had never said these things to him, but this was – _a dream of a memory from long ago_ – irrelevant right now. He didn't understand what Levi was trying to tell him. Levi seemed to live without a care in the world most of the time, though Eren knew it wasn't true. Levi cared for the people around him. He worried about them. The fact he'd tried to comfort Eren, even though it was an awkward, clumsy attempt only served to prove that.

He'd said that he'd never forgiven himself. Eren didn't know the full story, though. He only knew someone close to him had died, but even that was hearsay at most. Had Levi lived his whole life since then with guilt? A disturbing thought hit him. So many had died. Did Levi feel guilty about all of them too?

Levi came back from the kitchen with a pot of warm tea. He put it on the table and sat down.

The following silence only lasted so much.

"Captain," Eren said, "I don't know what to do."

Levi took off the teapot's lid and looked at the beverage with a critical eye.

"It's up to you," he said. "You'll do whatever you fucking want, as usual, and that's the way it should be."

He put the lid back and stood up.

"Tea isn't ready yet. Why don't you wake up?"

Eren looked at his hand. It had stopped bleeding. In fact, the wound was nowhere to be seen.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up. "What?"

Eren blinking at Levi when two strong hands landed on his shoulders. Levi was pushing him back against his chair, making room for him to straddle Eren's lap.

"I said," Levi said in a soft voice as he put his arms around Eren's neck, "you might want to wake up."

He was so close that his breath was fanning Eren's face, so close he could almost feel Levi's lips against his own.

Eren breathed in. He smelled tea and regret, and drowned.

* * *

Eren was slow to regain consciousness. He didn't open his eyes right away, basking in the sensations that blanketed him. His head was fuzzy, as if he'd been tucked in cottony wool, and his neck hurt a little. He was warm, really warm, but not uncomfortably so. One if his arms was around something solid, and he couldn't move.

When that something shifted, he realized that he was, in fact, hugging someone. Someone who had his arms around Eren as well.

Levi, Eren thought. Levi was still here.

Eren blinked awake, cautious not to move.

It was morning. Light filtered through the blinds, which meant they had probably overslept. Eren didn't remember what day it was, but he couldn't care less about getting in trouble for missing school. He'd managed to attend most of his classes in the past few days, though he hadn't been able to focus at all, lost in memories as they came back to him, piece by piece. One day wouldn't hurt.

He was more or less squished against Levi's chest, head tucked under his chin. Levi's hold was strong, stronger than his overall size suggested, even asleep, but Eren wasn't surprised. He should've known better. The captain had always been deceptively stronger than he looked, and military training or not, Levi was no different.

He could feel the slow rise and fall of Levi's chest, his breathing deep and regular. Aside from that, he was still, the arm around Eren's back heavy with sleep. Eren's head was resting on his other arm. He could remember falling asleep to Levi's soft stroking of his hair.

Their position made it difficult, and he had to lean back, just a tiny bit, so he could have a peek. He didn't want to wake him up, but he needed to make sure that this was really happening.

Levi was sleeping with his mouth closed in a more relaxed version of his usual scowl. His bangs were falling into his face, casting shadows over his eyes. His eyelashes were short and a stark black against the pale skin of his eyelids. In contrast, the skin below his eyes was puffy, making the color of his dark circles, tinged with blue, seem deeper in the faint morning light.

He looked just like in the memories, yet it was different. If they were any indication, the captain had never gotten much sleep. Even then, Eren had rarely seen him asleep. The few times he had, Levi's sleep had been superficial, when he wasn't simply resting his eyes – or faking it, depending on who you asked. The smallest unexpected noise would have him awake and perfectly alert.

Levi had told him that he had trouble sleeping. But here he was, fast asleep in Eren's bed.

It seemed like a dream.

Eren closed his eyes and breathed him in. He didn't smell like much – like clean laundry, maybe a faraway whiff of tea – all of which combined with Levi's natural smell to give off a scent that was familiar, comforting.

The past few days had been insane and taxing. He'd spent a lot of time stomaching the memories that had invaded his mind at first. After the initial shock had receded, when he'd finally managed to function on a basic level, he'd racked his brain over the matter. But he wasn't any closer to understanding what was happening.

Sometimes, remembering an event felt strange, totally foreign, like watching a movie, or maybe imagining a story told by someone else. But most of the time, they felt just like his own, like he'd been through these events himself, even though he knew he hadn't. The emotions he felt, as more and more memories made their way to his brain like they'd always been there, were genuine. In these moments, Eren wasn't sure what was real anymore. Which of these lives – this one or the other – which universe was the one he existed in. Both felt like a fever-induced dream.

They seemed irreconcilable, and he wasn't getting any closer to figuring out what was real or not, of the memories or his current world.

Furthermore, he'd been dreaming of them for years – mixing up things and confusing people and places, as minds would do while asleep, but still. How long had they been hidden within his subconscious, only accessible through distorted dreams? Had they always been there, at the back of his mind, just waiting for him to turn around and look?

As Eren pondered the nature of these new – yet ancient – memories, Levi's eyelashes fluttered. He let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan. Levi's hand found its way back into Eren's hair, and he tightened his embrace around him. Eren's face was squashed against Levi's sweater.

He didn't mind. Feeling Levi against him like this felt good, real. He smelled good, too. Levi's arms around him were grounding. Eren didn't plan on moving in the foreseeable future.

Levi was waking up. The slow rhythm of his breathing had changed for a more alert one, and the weight of the limbs around Eren was now deliberate. He was stiff for a bit, and Eren expected to be pushed away, but Levi slowly relaxed. The fingers in his hair started combing again, resuming their ministrations from the previous night, and that, too, felt good. Eren tightened his arm around Levi's waist and sighed, nuzzling closer.

He didn't remember entertaining these sort of feelings for his captain. The memories explained the familiarity he'd felt around Levi, but this?

None of what he could recall so far indicated that he'd been in love with the captain, but he thought he might have. Maybe he'd been too inexperienced to recognize his feelings for what they were then. After all, he'd always had a great deal of admiration for him. It was easy to confuse the two. Or maybe the respect he felt for Levi had been so great that he'd repressed the feelings. And of course, he could've been too distracted by the events happening around him, his priorities lying elsewhere.

Or maybe he'd just been dense.

As if Eren had been fixated on that part of him, a lot of the memories featuring the captain only highlighted how caring he'd been, behind the gruff exterior. Towards his fellow soldiers, but specifically towards Eren himself. He only had to close his eyes to conjure the captain's gaze, glaring at Eren, yet unable to hide his concern. The captain, asking how he felt. Trying to cheer him up, awkward but compassionate.

And kind, always so kind, if sometimes finicky and inscrutable. He'd known to treat Eren like the monster he was, but also like a human being, one whose opinion had worth. In the memories, it was obvious that Eren mattered in the captain's eyes, and not just because of his unusual abilities.

It was true in this reality as well. From the first time they'd met, Levi had cared, and he'd listened, even though he sometimes looked like he wanted nothing to do with Eren.

What he felt now – he was in love, wasn't he? These were his own feelings, not ones belonging to someone who was long dead.

Without thinking, Eren huddled closer. His hand slipped under the back of Levi's sweater and found warm skin there. He brushed his thumb against it – smooth but solid.

The motions in his hair halted for a moment, but soon resumed.

Eren didn't know where their boundaries stood anymore. Levi had let Eren kiss him, had kissed back, then had run away. He hadn't called for days on end, but had come as soon as Eren had wanted to see him. There was no other way to describe what they were doing, other than cuddling in Eren's bed.

In retrospect, after remembering so much, Levi's ambivalent behavior wasn't that hard to decipher. That was how the captain had acted after making a difficult choice, one that he didn't like much but thought was the one with the least dire consequences. It seemed Levi wasn't much different in that regard. If he wanted this but thought he should keep his distance – whatever his reasons were – Eren wouldn't let him run away.

He leaned up to hide his face in Levi's neck and breathed him in. He couldn't help but brush his lips on the tender skin of Levi's neck. Full body shivers were Levi's sole answer, but to Eren, it felt like a reward. He wanted to treasure each jolt, each shudder. Cautious, he planted small kisses on Levi's neck, slowly reaching his jaw.

Levi shivered again, not showing any other reaction, until the hand in Eren's hair grabbed at it and pulled backward.

He found himself staring into Levi's eyes. Levi was trying to glare at him, but still half asleep, he was doing a poor job of it. Eren felt self-conscious at being stared at like that. He knew he looked terrible. His bedhead was legendary, and his eyes were puffy from crying so much the previous night.

Levi's hair wasn't long enough to tangle during the night. His eyes weren't puffy like Eren's, though he didn't look completely awake yet. He looked perfect.

Eren saw the flicker of Levi's eyes to his lips, making his heart jump in his chest. He freed the arm that was stuck between them and careful, brushed away the hair obscuring Levi's eyes. He tried to tuck it behind his ears, but it was too short. Eren's other arm joined the first, brushing Levi's hair back, fingertips delicate on his temples.

Levi sighed quietly as he closed his eyes. Careful, Eren leaned up and kissed him. It was a cautious brush of lips on lips, nothing more. If Levi needed time, Eren would let him have it.

But Levi didn't seem to think he needed time. With a shuddering breath, he opened his mouth and nudged at Eren's lips with his tongue. Desire coursed through Eren like fire, and he was getting hard already. He let Levi in, who wasted no time brushing his tongue against Eren's, slow with sleepiness.

Like the first time, Eren had initiated the kiss, but Levi seemed to be the eager one. He wasn't slow anymore, attacking Eren's mouth, clumsy and earnest.

Eren wanted to moan but refrained. He didn't know how far Levi intended to take this. And yet, he wanted him so much he barely knew what to do with himself anymore.

Levi's hands were brushing up and down Eren's back, and his mouth was warm and silky soft despite the eagerness. Kissing him felt like taming a storm.

When he hooked a leg around Eren's and pulled him on top, Eren was already panting. He braced his hands on each side of Levi and paused. Levi's breathing was harsh. A frown twisted his features, and his eyes were darker than Eren had ever seen them – outside battle, that is. His dark hair was spilling like ink on the pillow's lighter fabric. He looked good like this.

Eren crawled up Levi's body so that he could reach his mouth and kiss him more. Levi's hands brushed up his chest, down his back. Eren was surprised when they cupped his backside and pulled him between Levi's legs. He was hard as well, and Eren felt overwhelmed by that knowledge. He didn't know if he wanted to cry or come right there and then, or make love to Levi for hours. Instead, he pressed into Levi's hips. Levi hid his face in the pillow as Eren left his mouth to place kisses against the skin of his jaw, his neck. A sensitive spot, if Levi's sigh were any indication.

There were suddenly way too many clothes in the way. Eren pushed a hand underneath all the layers and brushed Levi's side with a shaking hand, reveling in the feeling of warm skin against his fingertips. Levi squirmed a little under him, possibly ticklish. But he held his arms up to let Eren removes his clothes. Eren kissed his chest, focusing on his nipples for a bit before licking and nipping at his collarbone. Levi hid his face behind his arm when Eren cupped his dick through his pants, and let out a shaky sigh. He was mostly silent, but his gasps gave away how much he liked this.

He was beautiful.

Eren pushed Levi's arm aside, looking at their joined hands as he intertwined their fingers. He liked how they fit against his own, slightly larger hands. Had they always been so small? The captain's hands used to be deadly, causing so much destruction without their owner even breaking a sweat. He'd always found them fascinating. But that was then, and this was now.

Just like every single part of Levi, his hands were perfect.

Overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions, Eren brought Levi's hand to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Then, closing his eyes, he dipped down to kiss Levi's neck, right under his ear.

"Captain", he sighed against Levi's skin as he thrust against Levi's erection through their clothes, still too many.

If Levi heard, he didn't comment on it, thrusting back against Eren instead, hard and wanting.

He went back to Levi's mouth and licked into it. They only separated when Levi's hand reached for the hem of Eren's t-shirt. Eren let him take it off, but they were soon colliding again. Eren ran his hands down Levi's sides as they kissed. Making out with Levi like this, skin on skin, felt incredible. But Eren wanted, needed more. He wanted Levi naked under him, around him, inside him, and stay that way forever.

After a short kiss to Levi's chin, he leaned back and looked at Levi's groin. He ran his knuckles along the hard shape he could see through much too thick jeans. The topmost button of Levi's pants opened easily. Eren let his hand linger there, glancing up. Levi was panting, watching Eren's hand and giving no indication that he wanted to stop.

Eren slowly finished unfastening Levi's pants. Levi didn't stop him, not even when he dipped his fingers inside his underwear. His eyes closed as Eren's hands circled his cock and pumped once, rewarded with a faint moan. He lifted his hips when Eren finished undressing him, taking both jeans and underwear off.

Levi seemed determined to get Eren naked as well, fumbling with his zipper, sliding his hands around his ass and pushing his remaining clothes as far down as he could reach. Eren wriggled out of them and promptly kicked them away without looking. He couldn't be bothered, not when he had Levi naked and willing in his bed.

Levi's cock was hard, flushed and wet at the tip. He was gorgeous all over, and like the rest of him, it was everything Eren had never known he wanted. Eren kissed him, noting that Levi was shaking ever-so-slightly. But Levi didn't seem deterred. He caught Eren's ass again, with bruising fingers this time, and pulled him closer, tilting his hips up to garner more contact.

Eren couldn't contain the moan that escaped through his lips. He knew they would need some kind of lubrication before long, so he spat in his hand and lathered Levi's cock with moisture. He did the same with his own, and yes. It was even better like this, the added slickness making everything more intense. It was overwhelming.

Once he'd built a steady rhythm with slow thrusts, powerful with intent, he kissed and licked at everything he could reach, Levi's throat, his mouth. One hand traveled along Levi's chest, brushing his hair away and gently palming a hard nipple.

When Levi reached between them and took both of their erections in hand to stroke in time with Eren's thrusts, he hid his face into Levi's neck. Levi's hand was warm and steady. He smelled good, like sleep and lust. Another hand grabbed at Eren's ass to make him move faster, and Levi's sighs gave way to quiet moans. Eren loved it, loved him so much.

One of Levi's moan caught in his throat and he went silent. Eren felt him shudder as he came, hand slowing around their cocks, and panted against Levi's skin at the change in rhythm.

"Captain," he said, and he was coming too.

His orgasm was longer, more intense than when he touched himself at night. It left him shuddering and tired. He lied down next to Levi, taking him into his arms and holding him close. Levi didn't resist, and ran his hand along Eren's sweaty back.

Levi didn't fare much better. His hair was sticking to his forehead. With trembling fingers, Eren brushed it away. He kissed Levi's temple, his nose. He kissed him on the mouth, and Levi kissed back.

When they parted, Levi's nose was scrunched.

"I feel gross," he complained.

Eren placed a soft kiss on his mouth.

"Hold on." He stood up from the bed but almost fell back down. "Woops."

His legs were wobbly, but he managed to reach the bathroom. He cleaned himself up as well as he could, then wet a clean washcloth with warm water and came back to the room. He bypassed Levi's hand, waiting for him to relinquish the wet cloth, and cleaned him up himself.

Eren glanced up at him. Levi was avoiding his eyes. He was frowning.

"You can take a shower, if you want," Eren said.

Levi didn't answer, and his frown deepened. He looked upset. Eren reached up to brush Levi's hair away from his eyes, but when he saw Levi tense, he let his hand drop on the bed covers.

Eren wanted to ask him what was wrong, but Levi stood up and, picking up his shirt, started getting dressed. Heart in his throat, Eren spoke.

"Are you going?"

Levi's back, turned towards Eren, was tense when he answered.

"I have to," he said as he fastened his pants.

Eren felt the hurt slice through him like a knife, but didn't say anything. He got dressed as well.

Once he was fully clothed, Levi paused. He retrieved his coat from the chair, and turned around. His face was blank. That was a look Eren had seen before.

"I'll call you," Levi said, his eyes intent on Eren's. "I will."

Eren knew he meant it, but it didn't prevent anxiety from creeping up his throat as he came closer and took Levi's hand in a light hold.

"Okay," he said, giving a light squeeze.

Levi held Eren's gaze and nodded. Less than five seconds later, he was opening the door.

And just like that, Levi was gone.


	9. Schrödinger

Levi.

Such a strange name, in retrospect. The only thing he had left from his mother, aside from memories that grew cloudy with each passing day. There was nothing left for Levi to inherit – everything had been sold to pay the bills and late rent after she'd died. They'd never been rich, anyway, not even owning a car. His mother didn't have family heirlooms to pass down either, or even any family left to speak of. All she had was her son, and she'd named him Levi.

There must have been a man, his father. A strange concept to him, because he couldn't remember ever having a father. She had never talked about it.

Levi.

A Jewish name, maybe. His mother had never said anything about their ethnicity, but Levi had been told he looked the part, with his black hair and skin pale enough that it was hard to see for the olive complexion it really was. But Levi couldn't care less. He hated stereotypes and knew the color of his hair and skin meant jack shit.

He'd been told that what mattered was what lied in his heart, the motives that colored his words and drove his hand. What made him Levi and no one else. It was true, he knew. And he knew above all that none of that mattered when you were dead. That was what he'd been taught, what life had proven time and again.

He'd been trying his best to survive for what felt like forever.

Levi.

His name was Levi, and he was a survivor.

His mother had been like that too. She'd never been a fighter, but she'd endured three jobs at a time after he was born, while she'd raised him. She'd always known to adapt to the world around her and fit in it, in her own way, but also use it to the fullest extent. She'd known to avoid resisting what couldn't be changed.

And Levi was like her in that way, quiet and resilient. He was prickly and combative at times – which she'd never been – but he knew that going with the flow was sometimes the best decision.

Choose your fights, he remembered his mother telling him when he'd come back from school, with a black eye and bruised knuckles. She hadn't voiced it, but the words had been clear as day in the brisk moves of her kind but unforgiving hands. You can't fight the whole world, because the world will always win. The world is stronger than little boys with their small, angry fists, stronger than your mother, her tired eyes said. Don't fight when you can't win. Surviving is what matters.

She'd never been a very demonstrative mother. She'd done the best she could, but they'd never been very close – certainly not as close as the kids from school were to their own mothers. She'd rarely had the time or energy to take care of him, and yet, she'd fed him and wiped his ass. She'd nursed scraped knees and gotten up at night to dry his tears, whenever he'd wake screaming from nightmares. She'd made sure that he had everything he needed, even when they didn't have much. She'd loved him, even if she hadn't shown it often.

When she'd died, he'd been through the motions as in a daze. It only hit him months later – not that she'd left him all alone in a world that was far from merciful, he knew that already – but what exactly it had been that he'd lost now that she was gone.

His name was Levi, and like his hair color and pale skin, he was all that was left of her.

"...evi."

His name was Levi, and he 'd been alone for so long that he didn't even think he knew what it felt not to be anymore.

"Levi!"

He blinked at Gisele, surprised by her hand resting light on his arm. He cleared his throat.

"Yes," he said.

She shot him a dubious look, and took her hand off his arm.

"Are you sure?" she asked, sighing. "Were you even listening?"

Something on his face must have given him away, because she narrowed her eyes, eyebrows knitted.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Levi tried to glare at her, but his heart wasn't in it.

"I was lost in my thoughts." He looked away. "Sorry."

Giselle shook her head.

"It's okay."

They were sitting in the emergency stairs near their office, enjoying coffee – tea for Levi – in peace. The hustle and bustle of office life could be heard through the closed door, but it was quiet here.

Levi still ate at his desk, and Gisele at the cafeteria. But lately, they spent the remainder of their lunch break together.

Giselle finally spoke.

"You can talk to me, you know?"

Levi glanced at her, but didn't answer. He didn't know how she was so sure he had something to tell. Although, he was in a pretty bad mood. He guessed it would be noticeable, to someone who knew what to look for. She was probably the only one who could, these days.

"Giselle," he started, unsure how to formulate his question. "Why are you here?"

She blinked at him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

Levi hunched forwards, elbows on his thighs.

"Why are you here, talking to me?"

She watched him for a moment, opened her mouth, but closed it before saying anything. A soft chuckle was what she finally settled for.

"Sometimes, I wonder," she said.

Levi made a noncommittal noise. After that, they fell silent for a while. Giselle's knee was jumping at his side. He wished she would stop.

"You're," Giselle started, "difficult to get along with most days. You're quiet and distant. You don't open up easily. But I don't know."

She was trying to find her words. Levi waited for her to go on, sipping on his tea.

"When you first came here, four years ago," Giselle said, "you looked, I don't know. I thought you looked resigned. Lonely. There was something... I don't know. Almost 'faded' about you."

"You make no sense," Levi told her.

"I know," she simply said.

Levi stared at his mug. He wondered what else she'd seen then.

"Maybe I saw what I wanted to see," she said. "I'm not sure you've noticed, but I don't have friends at the office. I get along with most people, but I don't feel comfortable being close to any of them. I thought you might be like me, in a way, and I wondered if, maybe, we could be a little less lonely together."

Levi downed the remainder of his tea.

"Were you right?" he asked.

"About what?" she said

"Are we less lonely together?"

She didn't reply. She wasn't looking at him, but he could see a small smile lifting the corner of her lips, as if it was a sufficient answer.

Levi could understand where she was coming from, but he didn't know if he agreed with her.

"I'm not that lonely," he said.

The small smile remained on Giselle's face as she turned to face him.

"Yeah," she said, "and neither am I. I have friends. I had a great childhood, wonderful parents. But there's a subtlety here. You can be alone and perfectly fine on your own. You can also feel lonely, even surrounded by supportive people." She sighed. "Sometimes, that's just how I feel."

Levi's mind wandered to the time he found her crying at her desk. But he remained silent.

"I've always wanted a family, you know?" she said after a while. "I'm not getting any younger."

He shrugged.

"You look plenty young to me."

It made her laugh.

"Still, suitors have become scarce, and the few I met never seemed to be proper father material. Or interested at all, for that matter."

There was a moment of silence between them.

"My mom raised me on her own," Levi said.

She looked a little surprised, and so was he. He hadn't planned on telling her that. But it was the truth. They'd been a family, his mother and him, he now realized. They'd never been very demonstrative, or even really affectionate towards each other, but there had been love.

He missed her so much.

Gisele was smiling.

"Didn't turn out too bad, yeah?" she said.

It took Levi a moment to realize that she was talking about him. He couldn't stop a smile from curling the corner of his lip.

"I don't know about that," he said. "I'm a bitter, tiny old man who likes shit jokes. I know," he added when she opened her mouth to protest. "I'm not really old at all. But that's how I feel most days."

"Good point. I guess can relate."

"What I meant," Levi said, "is that a family starts at two."

She offered him a smile, and he returned it before thinking about it.

"I know."

It wasn't so bad, Levi thought, brushing invisible dust from his knees. Awkward, yes, for now. But maybe, someday, they'd reach some level of comfort around each other.

"You're right," he told her.

She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

He shrugged.

"I was lonely. I kept telling myself that it didn't matter. I'd managed to convince myself that it was what I wanted."

It was weird to acknowledge it. He'd lived his life thinking he didn't need anyone. He'd thought he'd be alone until he died.

Giselle was eyeing him with a peculiar look on her face.

"But?" she said.

Levi glanced at her. He didn't know how to explain it, but he wasn't really alone anymore, was he?

"There's someone," he told her.

Eren was special in so many ways. There had never been anyone before, not like him. He didn't know if Giselle could tell. It wasn't a topic he'd ever broached with her – or anyone, and he'd never imagined that one day, he would.

"It never happened before, and it made me realize – it changed everything."

If Giselle seemed surprised by what he was implying, she didn't remark on it. Instead, she watched him quietly, waiting for him to elaborate.

"I think I hurt them. I didn't want to," he said, "but I did exactly what I knew would come to that, eventually."

"What did you do?"

Levi's hands were tense around his cup.

"I didn't leave when I should have."

Gisele seemed confused. "But you care about them, right?"

Levi didn't expect her to understand, because she didn't know the whole story, and he wasn't about to tell her, or anyone, for that matter. Yet that was exactly what the whole mess was about, wasn't it? It was something only Eren could understand, and Levi wasn't naive enough to take even that for granted. Not after he'd harmed Eren like he had.

He was surprised to find how strong his grip on the mug in his hands was. It was empty, but he liked that mug. He carefully put it on the step he was sitting on. His hands kept twitching when he rested them in his lap. He had to fight not to let them clench into the fabric of his jeans – yet another surprise. He'd never been one to let his emotions get to him like that.

His voice came out weak to his own ears when he finally spoke.

"Why do you think I couldn't leave?" he said.

It was an even more foreign thing to admit to. He'd thought it'd be easy to push Eren away. But the kid had somehow managed to make himself a place inside Levi's heart long before he'd realized.

"Huh," Giselle said, frowning. "What about them though? Do they care about you?"

Levi let out an unamused noise. What had happened when he'd last seen Eren had to mean something. But Eren hadn't tried to contact him for the past week. Levi couldn't be sure whether that was because he was giving him space or because he'd decided he was better off without Levi.

"I suppose," he said. "If they haven't changed their mind."

Giselle was silent for a while. She was rubbing her index finger and her thumb together, sometimes making her nails click, staring at him. When she saw him looking back, she finally spoke.

"If they do," she said, "do you really think they'd be happy if you left?"

Levi kept staring at her but didn't answer, and Giselle sighed.

"At least, it's worth a try," she said. "Fixing it, I mean, though I don't see how being with someone who wants you around would hurt them."

"It's," Levi said, trying to find the best word to describe the mess, "complicated."

If Giselle didn't seem convinced, she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she briskly patted his knee.

"Come on," she said, "we have to go back to work."

* * *

It was hard, coming to terms with the fact that his hesitation was at the root of this whole mess.

Levi had never been the indecisive kind before. Confusion was alien to him, and conflict was usually caused by external factors. He'd usually known what was right, and that it took precedence over what he wanted.

But Levi had never really wanted anything for himself before. For others, maybe, but not like this. Not like he now realized he wanted this unexpected bond with Eren.

Levi had known that keeping his distance from Eren had been the right thing to do. But he'd lingered too long at Eren's side, even knowing that getting away with it was wishful thinking. Too easily swayed by Eren's eagerness to spend time together. But he wouldn't blame Eren for his own shortcomings. It was all on him, in the end.

Now, it was time to face the music. Levi had no idea where to start. He wanted to fix it, but he didn't think he could – it was too late. Too late to stay away, too late to spare Eren. And yet, it seemed likely that they'd have to part, in spite of it being useless at this point. He couldn't hope that Eren would forgive him. No, Eren would hate him, Levi was sure of it.

It was hard to understand what Eren saw in him to begin with. What was so good about a short, grumpy guy with a weird face like him? He was peculiar, jaded, emotionally stunted. He was boring, and he liked it that way. Going out and having fun weren't things he enjoyed – old man's habits despite his supposed youth. Didn't Eren deserve to have fun?

Eren was probably better off without him. Levi expected him to figure it out by the time they met again – it would likely be the last time.

If Levi could only forget they'd ever met at all. It'd be easier to face the eventual rejection when Eren realized he wanted nothing to do with Levi anymore.

But Levi wasn't forgetting anytime soon. The irony didn't escape him.

Had he really ever been satisfied with his uneventful routine? Had he really thought that a dull life was a good thing? He couldn't remember. His life had never felt so empty. He soldiered on, going through the motions, just like before, but nothing was the same.

Meeting Eren had really changed everything.

Levi didn't know what to do anymore, so instead, while he thought about the best way to approach Eren about it, he did what he knew best.

He survived.

He survived at work, by diving into piles of overdue papers that needed filing. The task was so dull that by the time he got home, his mind was tired enough that he could get some rest, for a change.

He survived at night, too. But his nights were filled with weird dreams he couldn't completely shake off once awake, faceless ghosts of memories once forgotten, coming to haunt him where he was at his most vulnerable, incapacitated by the permeability that came with sleep.

He barely remembered any of these dreams, but he didn't need to retain anything from them. He knew what these were telling him.

Still, he survived.

He spent way too much on a plush duvet undercoat. He was never cold again, but there was nothing he could do about the growing lump of ice in his chest.

Eren's scarf remained hidden within the confines of his closet. He'd never had the chance to give it back.

He made sure not to starve either. He survived at the supermarket, dutifully showing up every few days to purchase necessary sustenance after work. As he checked his list of vegetables, fruits, fresh produce and unprocessed meals that he took the time to cook himself, for once, the same thoughts went round and round in his mind: he had everything he needed – a roof over his head, healthy food in his plate, and – and Eren Jaëger was inside the store.

Levi was still outside when he saw him, standing in line to pay for groceries, and he stopped in his tracks before he could step into the supermarket. He needed more time. He wasn't ready to face Eren yet. He still didn't know how to tell him.

He needed to leave, but he couldn't take his eyes away.

Eren grinned as the cashier greeted him. He made conversation while they scanned his purchases. He didn't seem so sad from afar, but only a well-trained eye could tell. Levi thought Eren's smile looked more subdued than usual.

Before long, Levi was gone, headed towards another supermarket. It was a little further away, and more expensive, but Levi couldn't do this yet.

* * *

"Tea?"

"Please," Eren said.

Levi filled two porcelain cups with murky green water that had a pleasant smell. When presented with one of them, Eren took the cup. He breathed in the steam slowly rising from the warm liquid. It seemed to help him relax a bit.

"Thanks."

Levi made a noncommittal noise and filled his own cup. But as Levi sat next to him, Eren was already putting his cup on the table, empty.

Levi wouldn't have been able to explain why, but it seemed important that Eren's cup would remain full.

"More Tea?" Levi asked.

Eren nodded.

Levi held the teapot to fill Eren's cup again, but it was empty as well.

"I'll make more," Eren said.

Levi almost said that he'd do it, but Eren had been like that, in the beginning. Always willing to help, as if scared that, if he didn't have something to do, even a mundane task like refilling a teapot, his usefulness would run out. Always eager to fit in, to belong. Maybe scared to stand out too much, but always owning up to it when he did. And given his peculiarities, he often stood out.

Levi didn't have the heart to take that away from him. He let Eren take the pot and disappear into the kitchen area.

The dining room was silent, deserted. It had been filled with people before, but most of them were gone now. Levi tried not to feel sad or bereft. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop once he started.

Eren soon returned with a teapot full of steamy water, but he didn't fill their cups yet. The tea leaves needed to brew for a bit still.

"You were right, you know," Eren said.

Levi stared. Eren had been mostly silent earlier, and Levi hadn't expected him to talk. He waited for him to elaborate, having no idea what Eren meant.

"I finally understand what you've been saying," Eren said. "It's wasn't my fault that anyone died."

Something in Levi relaxed. He was glad Eren wasn't beating himself over the deaths of their comrades. This was war. Death was bound to happen. It was always hanging over a soldier's head.

"As for saving them," Eren added, "maybe I could've done more. Or maybe not. It doesn't matter – we'll never know either way."

Levi carefully sipped at his tea. It was still a bit too hot to drink, just how he liked it.

"It still hurts," Eren said, his voice soft.

Levi swallowed a mouthful of tea before answering.

"It's supposed to hurt," he said, not looking at Eren.

It wasn't a comforting thought, but it was all Levi had to offer.

He meant to drink again, but his cup was empty. When had he finished it? He couldn't remember.

"It's not your fault either, you know," Eren said, a frown on his face as he turned to face Levi. "It was never your fault."

The words resounded in the empty hall. It had never seemed so large, so empty before.

"I know," Levi said.

They fell silent again. After a while, Eren lifted the pot to fill Levi's cup and spoke.

"If you know that," he said, "why are you still doing this?"

Levi's cup was overflowing, and Eren was still pouring tea. He wasn't even looking at what he was doing. He was staring at Levi instead.

"If you know that it's not your fault," Eren said, his frown deepening, "why aren't you moving on? Why aren't you truly living?"

Levi didn't understand what Eren was saying.

"I'm alive," Levi said.

Eren scowled. He did that a lot, much too serious for his youthful face, rarely smiling. Even after going through hell, not even proper soldiers, most of his peers were light-hearted at times. Eren was not. He just frowned and scowled and didn't laugh – only smile politely. His true smiles were so rare Levi could probably count them on the fingers on a single hand. He wished Eren would act his age, if only every once in a while.

"Come on," Eren said. "You know what I mean."

Levi didn't know. He couldn't take his eyes off the full teacup. Tea was running down the table's leg to form a small puddle on the floor.

"The tea you make is the best," Eren said.

The puddle was reaching Levi's chair.

"You're the one who made it."

"I know," Eren said. "But I like yours better anyway."

Levi surreptitiously lifted his feet from the floor to sit cross-legged on his chair.

"Fair enough," he said.

Eren glanced at his crossed legs and sighed.

"Captain," he said, "you need to stop lying to yourself."

Levi glared at him.

"What do you care," he started, but Eren didn't let him finish.

"Isn't it enough that I do?" he said. "I care about you. I just do. Do I need a reason?"

The whole stone floor was covered in a shallow layer of tea now. What a waste, Levi thought. No one would ever drink that. The pot was still overflowing.

"You've got to stop stalling," Eren said, as he finally let go of the teapot. "You've got to wake up."

It fell on the floor and shattered. Where water used to cover the stone, moments before, only remained fragments of porcelain.

Levi licked his lips, staring at the broken pieces. He wondered if he could lower his feet back to the floor without touching any of them.

"I don't think I can," he said, more for his own benefit than in reply to Eren's statement.

Eren's gaze on Levi remained steady.

"I can help," he said. He stood up and crouched on the floor. One by one, he started to pick up the pieces of porcelain. "You don't have to do this alone."

Levi watched him gather the remains of the teapot. As he was taking one of the bigger shards, his thumb slipped on the wet surface. Eren winced and looked at his hand.

Levi lowered his gaze as well. Eren was bleeding, a deep gash across the fleshy part of his palm. Blood was already dripping towards the floor.

Something rose within Levi as he watched a drop of red blood fall on Eren's white uniform pants. It seeped into the fabrics, staining the immaculate white a deep crimson.

Before he knew it, he was standing up and kneeling next to Eren. He took his hand between his and inspected the cut. It was bad, but Levi wasn't worried. He knew Eren would start healing, any second now.

He looked up to find Eren's eyes intent on his face.

"How are you feeling?" Levi asked.

Eren smiled, not the polite, sad smile Levi was used to, but a real one that had his eyes and nose wrinkle. He looked much younger like this. Levi thought it suited him.

"Better," Eren said.

His hand closed around Levi's, indifferent to the blood that was still dripping everywhere. Levi should have been bothered, but he found that he didn't care.

"Thank you," Eren told him. "But you've got to wake up, now."

Levi turned Eren's hand around. The cut was gone, the skin whole as if it had never been there.

He raised his eyes and found himself staring into green. Eren had gotten closer while Levi was inspecting his hand. He smelled like leather, like the oil they used for gear maintenance. It was a nostalgic scent.

Eren was coming closer, and Levi couldn't help his eyes closing.

"Please," Eren whispered against Levi's lips, "wake up."

And so, he did.


	10. Third Law of Motion

Memories kept coming, though what had been a flood at first now looked like a leaky kitchen tap. During classes, he would lose himself in a new fragment that had just surfaced without prior notice. Or his mind would wander down memory lane while he was vacuuming some empty office at night, and hours would pass him by in a blink.

School was not an issue yet – he'd managed to borrow notes from someone. He had to cancel some of his shifts at the store in the past week though, but he would get more hours than usual thanks to the holiday season anyway. As for his cleaning job, he worked his shifts alone. There was no one to witness him spacing out in the midst of mopping floors.

Eren had never been smart, but he wasn't stupid either, and he worked hard. He didn't think he would downright flunk his exams, but he could've done with the additional studying. And what if a memory came right in the middle of an important test? He hoped that the distraction caused by the memories would be over before they came around.

But if Eren was now over the initial shock and able to go on with his life, the emotional toll was high. His short nights were plagued by nightmares, and he was exhausted. There were too many painful memories. Too many questions with no answers, causing too much frustration, filling too much of the brain space he was supposed to use poring over books. What were these 'memories', exactly? Had they been real events? They couldn't be. There was no trace of man-eating giants or walls in the history of mankind. Were they events from the future then? From another universe? He didn't think he was losing his mind, but the looming shadow of madness was impossible to completely banish from his thoughts.

More than once, he wished for Armin to be by his side. Armin would've had at least a few hypotheses. Eren missed them all, Armin and Mikasa especially, but the others as well. He knew now, why he'd never been satisfied with his life, always eager to look for new things to try. To fill the void within him that their absence had caused – a void nothing could ever hope to fill.

He sometimes wondered if there were other people like him in the world. Other people who remembered – or who would, possibly, someday. He'd found Levi, so it wasn't impossible, right?

Eren hoped, and waited.

He should've been busy enough to keep himself occupied, with the memories, his part-time jobs, school, and the exams looming on the horizon.

His phone was an old model that was long past its prime. The thing could barely even surf the web these days, and most game apps would have it stutter and freeze. It was a pain in the ass, but at least, texts and calls would go through. That was all Eren needed.

Of course, it was all but useless when the one person he wanted to hear from wasn't texting him.

When Eren wasn't lost in thought, he couldn't help but glance at his damn phone every half hour. He would have thrown the thing against a wall if it wasn't his only link to Levi. He kept it close to him at all times, just in case Levi called. He'd been fiddling with it for the best part of the last few days, taking it out at work and during classes, hoping for a notification. Levi had made it clear that he wanted some time, so Eren hadn't tried to text him. He knew it was out of his hands now. All he could do was wait.

He missed Levi so much he sometimes felt like he couldn't breathe.

Seeing Levi had grounded him in an unexpected way, more than his frantic call to his mother on the day he'd gained these new memories. When he finally got a grip on himself after the first onslaught in the middle of the night, he'd been confused and scared, not knowing what was real or not. He hadn't been in his right mind then, but he'd called her before even thinking how it might worry her.

He'd called her again, a few hours after Levi had left his apartment. He'd felt better and tried to ease her concern, but even now, she was still worried. She'd been texting him more than usual since then.

His phone buzzed. He jumped to retrieve it from the old stool he used as a bedside table. He was disappointed to find that it wasn't Levi, only his mom, and immediately felt guilty about it. He swiped the screen with his thumb and raised the phone to his ear.

"Mom, hey."

"Hi, baby," she said, and Eren's heart broke at the affection in her voice. "How are you?"

Eren went to sit at his desk. He'd been studying – or trying to.

"Fine," he lied, trying to hide the tightness in his voice. "How are you?"

He could almost hear her smile on the other end of the line.

"Fine," she said, "but worried. Lately, you've been – I don't know. Anxious."

Eren sighed. Of course, nothing escaped her.

"It's been a tough week. But I'm better now."

His mom snorted.

"At least, you're honest about it," she said. "You do sound tired."

"I am," Eren said. "I haven't been sleeping well. I think exams are stressing me out."

She chuckled. "I know studying is important, but don't overdo it, okay?"

He made a noncommittal noise.

"Yeah. You shouldn't worry so much," he told her, hoping to hide how hard it was lying awake at night, hurt by mere memories that might not even be his own, how hard it was simply getting out of bed in the morning. "I'll be fine, eventually."

He'd held onto this thought like he would a lifeline. He didn't dare let his hope that Levi would call get him through each day.

"I know, but I'm your mom. It's my job to worry about you."

"Yeah." Eren pondered for a bit. He knew what he was about to ask would only worry her more, but there was no way around it. "Mom?"

"Eren?"

Eren realized he was fiddling with his pen. He put it down on his desk and intertwined his hands on his lap.

"Is still okay for me to visit for Christmas?"

There was a pause on the other side of the line.

"You know I'm always glad to have you home," she said, but she sounded hesitant. "Are you sure everything's all right?"

Eren opened his mouth, ready to say everything was fine, but something else poured out before he could think about it.

"I just," Eren said. "Mom, there's – I've met someone."

There was a blank in the conversation.

"You know," his mom said, "it actually explains a lot."

"It does?" Eren said, frowning.

His mom hummed thoughtfully.

"It does," she said.

Eren waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't.

"I'd love for you to come home for Christmas, but don't you want to spend time with them instead?" she asked.

Eren's heart broke again. He knew how important spending time with him was to her, especially during the holidays. He was her only child, as well as her only family left since his grandparents had passed away. Giving up on a Christmas with him must have cost her so much. His throat was tight when he replied.

"I don't know," he said. "It's – it's complicated."

"I see," she said.

Eren thought she would ask for details. But she once again surprised him by dropping the subject. She asked instead whether he'd already told his manager at work, and if he wanted her to transfer some money into his bank account to pay for his train ticket.

"It's okay," Eren told her. "I have enough money for now. We can discuss it when I'm home."

"All right, baby. About your friend," she said, trailing off.

"Yes?"

"Maybe they could come along," she said. "If they're not already busy."

Eren couldn't repress the affectionate smile on his face.

"I told you, it's complicated," he said, and he could tell she was about to protest, so he quickly added: "But I'll make sure to let them know."

"Okay. Love you."

Eren's throat tightened.

"Love you too, Mom."

* * *

It was only after they had hung up that he noticed he had a message from Levi.

 _I have to talk to you_ , Levi's text said. _When can we meet?_

Eren didn't want to seem eager.

 _Lunch, tomorrow? Wherever you like?_

The next day was a Sunday, and Eren didn't have to work then.

He was surprised when Levi's answer came less than a minute later.

 _Let's just talk._

Then, right away:

 _Please._

Eren's anxiety rose then. 'We need to talk' and its many variations were always foreboding in books and movies.

But something else in Levi's texts, as bare as they were, spoke of unstated urgency. Eren glanced at the time in the corner of his phone screen.

 _I'm free right now, if you want._

* * *

Not even ten minutes later, Eren was joining Levi at the cemetery bench. Levi was already there, standing in front of it, back straight. He was facing away from Eren, staring ahead.

Eren still didn't know where Levi's apartment was. He'd suspected Levi lived close for a while, but he now realized that it had to be closer than he'd thought, for him to get there so fast.

Levi could get cryptic at times, which made it hard for Eren to read between the lines and understand what he really meant. He'd only said he wanted to talk. That was what Eren had been telling himself since before he'd even left his apartment. Yet Eren couldn't get rid of the thought that he might never learn where Levi lived. Maybe it was the last time they saw each other. It seemed like a terrible waste. Just talk, huh. Did Levi even realize how anxious these words would make anyone?

But when Levi turned to greet him with a curt nod, Eren could see that the lower part of his face was hidden in a thick scarf – the same scarf Eren had given him a not even three weeks earlier. Seeing him wearing something of his made Eren's heart fill with affection, and in spite of everything, hope. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help it.

Levi sat down, and the only thing Eren could think of to say was: "Do you really want to have a long-ass conversation in this cold?"

It was freezing.

He waited for Levi to answer, but the latter was only staring at the ground. Whatever Eren could see of his face was artfully blank. For the first time since they'd ever met, Eren was hit by the notion that Levi wasn't the best at expressing himself. It was a strange but reassuring thought.

"Eren."

His voice was muffled by the scarf, and he pulled it down. His mouth was set in a thin, tense line.

Eren got the hint. He sat down as well, and waited for Levi to talk. But Levi didn't say anything else for a while. Something about the stiffness of his face, about his bearing, had Eren's insides freeze, more efficient than the surrounding cold.

"Yes?" Eren said.

For a moment, Levi was still as a statue, tragically beautiful in the terrible lighting the nearby lamppost provided.

"Have you ever wondered," Levi said, "whether you were born for a reason?"

Levi sounded resigned – and suddenly, Eren wondered if Levi was dreading this conversation. He carefully watched Levi's face as he answered his question.

"I don't believe in fate," he said.

Levi nodded. He didn't look surprised, as if he'd been expecting this specific answer.

"But," Eren continued when Levi didn't speak, "sometimes, I can't help but think about it."

A short sigh was Levi's reply.

"Of course," he said, voice uncharacteristically soft. "Of course, you would."

They fell silent for a while. Eren hid his hands in the sleeves of his coat and tucked them under his arms.

"When my mother died," Levi said without forewarning, "I thought about it a lot, too. Our life had never been easy, but it wasn't bad because we were together. I didn't mind not having much as long as we were together. And then she died, and I was truly alone. Alone in the world, and so angry. It was so unfair."

Eren was hit by an overwhelming wave of sympathy. He knew what Levi meant. He knew so well that he'd kept having nightmares about it in this life, in this better world where his own mother was alive and well, even though he'd forgotten how he'd lost her once.

Levi turned towards Eren, exchanging a glance with him before staring at his hands in his lap.

"Then after a while," Levi went on, "I started wondering if I'd done something to deserve such a punishment. If that was my lot in life. Even though I don't believe in fate either."

Eren nodded, heart in his throat. Levi never deserved to feel like that.

"But sometimes, you wonder?" he ventured.

"Yeah," Levi said.

Eren could sympathize.

"I've thought about it lately," he told Levi. "Fate."

Levi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He hid his mouth behind his joined hands. He was frowning.

"Yeah?"

Levi's eyes were focused and attentive, intent on Eren. He cleared his throat, feeling self-conscious. "Maybe," Eren said, "you and I were supposed to meet because of some manner of fate. Or maybe it was by chance. It's not important though, is it? I'm not sure about you, but I don't care. All I know is that I'm the one who has to deal with whatever life gives me. I'm glad we met. Even if I'd had a say in it, I'd still have wanted to meet you."

Levi's eyes, pale behind the reflected light, didn't leave his. The look they exchanged was charged, significant. Eren felt like he was being appraised.

Levi was the one to avert his gaze.

"You seemed pretty perturbed last time," he said.

"I'm better now."

Levi snorted, but it held no humor.

"Yeah," he said. "What were the nightmares about?"

At that moment, Eren's hand choose to start itching again.

"Same as usual," he said, shrugging as he slid a couple fingers under his sleeve to scratch at his skin.

"The same you had as a kid?"

"It's nothing," Eren said. "I'm fine, now. I was just –"

"So you say, but here we are," Levi said, his face inscrutable.

Eren shrugged.

"Didn't you go to therapy for this?" Levi went on. "You told me that you barely remembered your dreams these days, but you didn't look like you were fine last time. So," Levi said, turning on the bench so that he was facing Eren again, "quit the bullshit and tell me what happened that made the night terrors come back."

"Is it really that important?" Eren said. He wasn't sure what talking about it would achieve.

Levi remained silent for a bit, staring at the ground. When he raised his head to look at Eren, there were no emotions at all on his face. Nothing remained of the frown that had been there moments before.

"Tell me, Eren," Levi said, quiet and slow. "What are your dreams about?"

Levi wasn't even blinking as he watched Eren's face, waiting for his answers. Eren felt like Levi's gaze was tearing at his insides, looking for a secret to uncover. But he didn't look away.

"I dream," he started, "of loss. People die and I'm unable to save them. I dream of betrayal, and rage. My own, usually. I dream of friendship. I dream of dying." He stopped then, letting the memory of that day wash over him and dissipate. "Most of the time, though, I dream of you."

Levi was still staring at him, perfectly still. Eren kept talking, voice tight.

"You probably have no idea how much I always looked up to you. How much you inspired me. You went through so much shit. I don't think I could have endured what you had to go through."

Levi's face was finally moving. The frown was back, and his eyes were wide when he averted them.

"You would have," he said, voice weirdly tight, like pushing the words out of his windpipe was more difficult than usual. "You did."

"I had help," Eren said, shaking his head. "I was never alone. Not like you were."

"No."

Eren's eyes shot up to look at Levi.

"What do you mean?"

Levi's hands were stiff, resting on his knees. He was frowning, but something in the quality of his gaze made Eren watch closer.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Levi's skin looked even paler in the weak light.

"No," he said again.

Eren frowned in confusion.

"No to what?"

Levi turned to look at Eren. Quiet, he gazed into Eren's eyes as if he meant to uncover the secrets of the universe.

"I wasn't alone," Levi said. "Not when it mattered."

They stared at each other. Eren waited. Levi was building up to something.

"Eren, there's something you need to know," Levi said, eyes not leaving Eren's. "You might resent me afterward. I wouldn't blame you."

Levi, pale face bathed in the blue aura of this winter night, was still as a statue. So still, as he spoke next, that Eren could almost believe he was made of ice, frozen and cold, if it wasn't for the small puffs of warm hair coming out from his parted lips.

"I remember, Eren," he said. "I've remembered everything since I was twelve years old."

Unlike his face, which was devoid of all emotions, Levi's hands were bunched into fists, so tight that his knuckles appeared white. And yet, he didn't avert his eyes. As if keeping constant eye contact with Eren was of the utmost importance, the only way he could properly convey what he had to say.

"I knew who you were the moment I met you. I knew this could happen, and I kept agreeing to meet you," he said. "I lied to you. I'm sorry."

Levi's carefully constructed facade of boredom and annoyance was crumbling under the tension, leaving room for the blankness of emotions much too strong that he didn't know how to deal with.

"Sorry?" Eren asked. "About what?"

Levi's face seemed to reflect confusion for a second, but it soon turned to cold marble once again.

"You remember, don't you?" Levi said in a deceptively quiet voice.

Eren didn't really understand what Levi was getting at. It was obvious, wasn't it? Was it really all that Levi wanted to know?

"Yes?" he said.

"Do you remember the fucking walls, Eren?"

Eren nodded, surprised at Levi's tone. He sounded exasperated in a way only Levi could be, calm but lethal. But there was something raw behind his words, behind the way his quiet voice had cracked just so on a few syllables.

"Yes," Eren said.

"And what do you think caused your memories to come back?" Levi asked.

The words were sharp. There was venom behind them, and Eren was surprised to find it wasn't directed at him.

He might have taken too long to answer, because Levi started talking again. "You started remembering the moment we met, didn't you? You thought we'd met somewhere, but you couldn't remember. I knew, then. I knew it would harm you."

Levi was speaking through clenched teeth, and Eren was surprised – and a little anxious – to see his eyes gleam in the pallid light.

"I knew I should cease all contact, but –"

"Look at me," Eren said, cutting in before Levi could say any more. "Please," he added.

Levi raised his head, and sat with his back stiff as a board. His face, at last, was displaying a small, heartbreaking frown.

"Levi, I knew."

There was a moment of silence.

"You –" Levi started, but trailed off, looking unsure of what to say.

"I knew as soon as the first memories came back, or at least, I strongly suspected that you remembered, too. You had to remember, or you wouldn't –" Eren said, but changed the course of his sentence suddenly. "And before that, I thought you remembered where we'd met, and were lying about it."

Levi had gone eerily still. He was staring at Eren, but Eren didn't think Levi saw him.

When it was clear that Levi wasn't gonna move or talk, Eren gently took one of Levi's gloved hands in his own. It seemed to bring Levi's mind back to the present.

Now that he had Levi's attention back, Eren started speaking again.

"I wasn't so sure at first," he said. "Well, actually, right after I remembered, I thought, you had to know. Or you wouldn't be there, sticking with me. But when I thought about it more, I wondered, what if you didn't? I didn't have any proof, and it was only a possibility."

Levi's fingers were stiff and cold between his. He still seemed a little shocked, so Eren started gently rubbing his thumb over Levi's knuckles.

"When were you sure?" Levi asked.

Eren wouldn't have heard him if it weren't for the surrounding silence. Levi's voice was a mere whisper.

"The last time," Eren said, "I called you 'Captain', and you didn't react. But it wasn't what made me sure of it."

Levi's eyes shot up to look at Eren's face.

"What was it, then?"

Eren couldn't help but smile.

"It was the way you always listen. You're doing it right now, actually."

Levi blinked, but seemed otherwise unperturbed.

"I am?"

Eren nodded.

"Whenever I talk, you look me right in the eyes, always attentive, with your focus on me only. It used to be like that too, before."

Both of them knew Levi didn't need an explanation to understand what Eren meant by 'before'.

"You listen like my thoughts have weight," Eren said, "like my opinions have value. Like I matter."

"I never treated you any different than everyone else," Levi said, frowning at their joined hands.

"I know," Eren said. "And that exactly why it was special, to me."

Eren followed Levi's eyes to their gloved hands. He couldn't touch Levi's skin, couldn't feel his warmth. He wanted to, but it was too cold to take them off.

"The others – either they treated me like a monster, or acted like I couldn't suddenly turn into a titan and kill them all. It was one or the other. But you were different."

He gave a light squeeze to Levi's fingers.

"You treated me like a human being, but you never let me forget what I was. You gave me room to make my own choices."

"Why do you sound like you're grateful?" Levi asked.

Eren looked at him, eyebrows raised in candid surprise.

"Because I am," he said.

"You can't," Levi said. "I don't –"

" –deserve it?" Eren said.

Levi's frown deepened.

"I don't." Again, he was facing Eren, eyes locked on him. "Eren, I led you to your death. I was supposed to protect you."

"I thought you were there to watch me and stop me in case I suddenly went on a rampage – or something," Eren said.

Levi shook his head.

"I was your guardian. My job was to keep you safe."

Eren fell silent. He'd always thought Levi was supposed to kill him if he misbehaved, so to speak.

"I died knowing that I couldn't fucking protect you," Levi went on. "I've been trying to live with that knowledge ever since the memories came back, and when –" Levi stopped then, voice breaking on the last syllable. He was no longer looking at Eren. "You didn't remember me and I knew I should leave, but –"

Eren didn't understand what was happening at first. Levi's hold on Eren's hands turned bruising, and he closed his eyes. His shoulders were hunched, his head lowered. Eren could barely see his face at all. Levi let out a stuttering sigh, breathing hitching softly, and Eren finally realized that he was trying very, very hard not to cry.

"Oh no, no, don't," he said stupidly before letting go of Levi's hands and wrapping his arms around his shaking frame in an awkward hug. "It was never your fault," he said. "I was always going to remember. I wanted to." His own eyes were wet. He felt guilty for not realizing sooner how lonely it had to be for Levi. "If anything, I'm sorry it took me so long."

Levi didn't respond, and kept his face hidden against Eren's shoulder, muffling stilted sighs. Eren had to straddle the bench to hold him properly. He didn't expect Levi to hug back and hold him tight.

"It's fine," Eren went on. "We're fine."

He felt Levi's wet sigh against his neck and tightened his hold around him. He kept talking, reassurance and nonsense, aware that he was babbling and not caring in the least.

Levi seemed to settle down after some time, only sniffling softly. Eren had fallen silent, relishing the feel of Levi's solid weight in his arms. He was about to ask him if he felt good enough to move to a warmer place when Levi spoke.

"You were special, too."

Eren was running fingers into his hair, gentle and soothing, hoping to bring comfort. He didn't stop as he thought about Levi's words.

"Was I?"

He could feel Levi nodding against his coat.

"One of the only persons stubborn enough to not let me isolate myself. I think you were the only one who could. The only one who cared enough."

"That's unfair," Eren said. "Hanji –"

"They had their own shit to deal with. So did you, but you made me feel like I was just as important more than once."

Eren didn't say anything, but Levi was right. They'd both been singled out then, for different reasons. Levi was a hero to most, a savior, and Eren, a monster as well as humanity's last hope for survival. There had been understanding there. Some sort of kinship.

Levi suddenly snorted.

"What's funny?" Eren asked.

Levi's hand was inching across Eren's back in a regular, slow motion. It was a little distracting.

"You were such a fanboy at first," Levi said. "Yet you never put any kind of pressure on me."

Levi's hair was centimeters away from Eren's nose. He breathed it in, taking in Levi's scent that mingled with the cold.

"I didn't want to be the annoying kid you'd been asked to babysit," he said, eyes on the nearby wall. "At first, because you were my childhood hero, and then because I respected you. I wanted you to like me."

Eren could feel Levi's smile against his shoulder.

"You don't realize how much you gave me then, without asking for anything in return."

"You're being unfair again," Eren said. "I mean, you gave attention, companionship, the occasional guidance. You gave me support when my friends couldn't understand."

Levi's sigh vibrated against Eren's coat. Eren removed his arms from around Levi's frame. He took his hands and scooted back so that he could look at his face.

Levi's hair was falling over his eyes, sticking to his wet skin. It was getting longer, Eren thought. He gently brushed the hair away and looked at Levi's face.

His eyes were puffy, dark circles tinted red by the tears and the cold. His nose, too. Crying didn't suit him, making his complexion blotchy. Eren finally gave in and took one of his gloves off. He ran his thumb along Levi's sharp cheekbones, wiping the tears away.

Levi's eyebrows were knitted in a conflicted expression.

"What's wrong?" Eren asked.

Levi blinked, and the look was gone from his face.

"Nothing important," he said.

But Eren knew better. "Oh, come on," he said, a small, encouraging smile on his face. "How long have we known each other, seriously?"

Levi's gaze was intent on their hands. He was shivering.

"What's going to happen now?" he asked.

"I don't know," Eren said. "What do you want?"

Levi's hands briefly squeezed Eren's.

"I should be the one asking you that," he said, mouth pressed in a tight line.

"Shouldn't we discuss this?" Eren said. "That being said, I can tell you what I'd like to happen right now."

Levi was looking at him again, attentive.

"I want to take you back to my place and make you tea," Eren said. "I wish I could draw a bath, but I don't have a bathtub. And then, after we're both warm and safe, well." Eren's smile was rueful. "We'll see then."

Levi was silent for a bit.

"No."

Levi wasn't done being confusing as hell. Didn't he want this? Had Eren read him wrong?

"No?" he said. "You don't want to?"

But Levi was shaking his head.

"Let's go to my place. It's closer," he said, getting up. "Besides, the tea you have at home sucks."

"Is that what you want?" Eren asked as he followed suit.

"Yes."


	11. Superimposition principle

It was okay, Levi told himself, as he let Eren into his apartment. Eren took his shoes off upon entering the place. He obviously remembered well.

Eren offered to make tea. Levi wanted to refuse. But Eren protested, saying that Levi had made tea for him when he wasn't feeling great, and Levi relented.

It was okay, he told himself as Eren busied himself in his tiny kitchen. Okay if Eren made a mess – but Eren was careful, and anything spilled was promptly wiped with a kitchen sponge found near Levi's sink.

It was only water.

He thought it was okay, maybe, to let Eren into his life like this. Of course, having someone that would truly get you was a good thing, Levi knew that. But if that someone was him? Difficult, moody, avoidant, particular? Burdened with memories that had neither rhyme nor reason, when Eren had to deal with his own? Yet Eren, despite his own shortcomings, knew how to get through to Levi like nobody else could. They'd been through so much together before. It was easy to understand each other.

Levi didn't have much to offer, but Eren had made it clear that he wanted to be here.

Levi had never wanted anything for himself. He tried not to let it, but the thought that, maybe, it was okay to want this settled in his mind like it belonged there.

Eren soon handed him a cup full of warm tea, and sat next to him on the couch.

"I like your place," he said. "It's bigger than mine, in better shape." He laughed. "Also, cleaner."

"Yours was okay," Levi said.

"Sure," Eren said, "but there only so much you can do to clean when the ceiling crumbles on your face while you're asleep."

Levi glanced at him. "You're joking."

"I wish I was," Eren said, grimacing.

Levi scrunched his nose and scowled. "Gross."

"Don't tell me. I never fell asleep on the couch ever again."

They fell silent. Levi took short sips to test the tea's temperature. It was still too hot to drink, but it did wonders for his cold fingers. He already felt warmer. But still, his hold on the cup was tight, and his hands were shaking.

"Eren," he said.

Eren's eyes shot up from over his cup.

"Yeah?"

Levi put his cup down on the coffee table to avoid any spills. "What are you going to do?"

Eren watched him attentively for a moment, a frown on his face. "About what?" he said. "The memories? I don't know. Life goes on, I guess."

Levi was staring at the lazy plumes of steam slowly rising from his cup.

"Don't know," he repeated slowly. "'Don't know' as in...?"

"As in 'I don't know the future'." Eren's eyes followed Levi's line of sight to fall on the steaming cup as well. "Nobody can. The future is whatever we make of it." His voice was quiet.

Levi glanced up at Eren, but the latter didn't seem to notice.

"What do you remember, exactly?" Levi asked, not caring that the switch in topic was a little abrupt.

"Almost everything, I suppose, but I'm not sure. The memories haven't stopped coming yet" Eren said. "You know what, it's weird, now that I think about it."

"Weird?" Levi said.

"A lot came to me at once," Eren started, "but after that was over, I kept remembering bits and pieces at the weirdest time. Without notice."

Levi took his time taking this in, pondering over his next question. His eyes fell on a pillow from the couch. There was a loose string on one edge.

"Was there an order?" he asked.

Eren shook his head.

"I'm not sure. The memories that came at first, I could tell – they were about moments that had a strong emotional impact. Then it was smaller moments, like random conversations. Most were irrelevant but in retrospect, some were pretty important. I just didn't know that when they took place."

Levi let the information sink in.

"I see."

He retrieved his cup from the coffee table and took a sip. Still too hot. He put it back there.

"It was the same for me," he said. "Once I started remembering, it felt like they'd always been there, just waiting for me to reach for them."

"Like books in a library?" Eren said.

Levi shrugged.

"Or a photo album?" Eren went on. "Like each photo makes the relevant memory come back, but you have to look at it first."

"Something like that," Levi conceded.

They fell silent, both lost in thought.

"I was wondering," Eren started, something cautious and contemplative in his tone. "You said you remembered when you were twelve, right?"

"Yeah," Levi said.

Eren glanced at Levi, but was quick to avert his eyes when he saw that Levi was watching him as well.

"That..."

Eren trailed off, looking uneasy. Levi knew what he was hesitant to ask.

"After my mother died," he said, voice quiet but unwavering.

A frown appeared on Eren's face. He was still avoiding Levi's eyes.

"It's okay," Levi said. "It was a long time ago."

The conversation died down again. Levi, waiting for Eren to speak again, absentmindedly pulled on the loose thread.

"Do you think," Eren asked after a while, something soft in his voice, "that it was what triggered the memories?"

Levi shrugged.

"Possibly. It doesn't matter."

Eren was tapping a finger against his knee.

"But maybe it does," he said.

"Why would it?" Levi asked.

"Well, we're both here," Eren said. "What if there are others?"

Levi, abandoning the thread, picked up his cup again. It didn't feel as hot against his fingertips.

"Yeah, maybe," he said, before taking a sip. The temperature was perfect. "It's not like we could easily find them. There are seven billion human beings out there. They could be anywhere, and they might not even remember."

"Yeah," Eren said. "But what if they do?"

Levi glanced at Eren. He was frowning, his expressive eyes downcast.

"I mean," he said, "nothing tragic happened to me in the past few months to trigger them, yet the memories hit me hard. I was lucky you were there." He raised his head to look at Levi. "You were alone when it happened to you, and not in the best place. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. "

Levi's hands tightened around his cup.

"You're looking at it from the wrong angle. Maybe it doesn't need to be tragic. It can be a simple thing."

Their eyes met.

"Like the face of someone you once knew?" Eren said softly.

Levi stared at the worn wooden floor of his apartment before looking back at Eren.

"What else could it be?"

Eren's shrugged in an unaffected way, but his shoulders were hunched. He was avoiding Levi's eyes now. He looked antsy as shit, as if he'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

Unannounced, a memory from another era came to the forefront of Levi's mind. Eren's friends doing a piss poor job with the cleaning the safe house. Eren gracing everyone with what could only be described as a minor freak out. He'd almost fought Kirstein over something ridiculous – was it potatoes? Levi couldn't remember. Acted like disappointing Levi was the worse thing that could ever happen to him. Levi had felt oddly touched then, but there were more important matters to attend, so he'd never addressed it.

"Is there something you want to share?" he asked Eren.

Eren's face was sporting a visible flush, despite the healthy tan of his skin.

"Do I – " Eren said, frowning at his hands, which were sitting limp in his lap. "Do I really need to say it?"

Levi just stared, making Eren sigh.

"Okay, right. Well, if you really wanna know," he said, words a little stilted, "I–"

He stopped then, and muttered something before scooting closer to Levi. He gently took Levi's cup from his hands to set it on the table.

Levi's heart was suddenly waking up from its lethargy, beating strong enough for him to feel the electrifying course of adrenaline through his body. There was an arm behind him, on the back of the couch, gentle fingers holding his.

His heartbeat quickened as he peered into green eyes.

When Eren had started to make him feel this electrified and alive, Levi didn't know.

"I'm not sure what I was expecting," Eren said, "but here goes. I –"

He stopped again, and with a tired sigh, leaned closer, hand light on Levi's shoulder, fingers brushing against his neck. Closer still, until his hair was tickling Levi's skin.

He was so close Levi could smell him – shampoo and deodorant and warmth.

Eren's lips brushed against the skin of Levi's jaw as he spoke.

"I think, deep down, I wanted to remember, because I was in love with you."

Levi felt like cursing, like saying, are you fucking kidding me, Eren. But he leaned back and peered at Eren's serious face, and everything – his annoyance at the ridiculous confession, his equal amusement, deeper concerns and doubts – was lost to the look in Eren's eyes.

Eren was frowning, his lips drawn in a line thinned by anxiety. He looked scared, more scared than Levi had ever seen him, and strangely vulnerable.

Levi had thought about this before. He'd wondered about Eren's feelings, and decided it was better not to think too hard. He didn't know for sure how Eren felt about him, aside from the obvious physical attraction and a smidgen of leftover hero worship that he'd be dumb not to see. He would have been stupid not to see Eren cared about him. Eren had always cared.

But this? Eren looked so serious about it, like he was with everything that meant something to him.

And there Levi was, always certain, deep down, that the dedication Eren had shown him throughout their shared existence was a gift he'd done nothing to earn. He didn't deserve half of what the kid had given him in this life or another, and he was given even more? Given something so important?

He'd never felt so unworthy.

"You're such a shithead," was what finally came out of Levi's mouth.

He meant to shake his head along with these words, to roll his eyes and hide how off balance Eren's confession threw him, but somehow, he couldn't. Captivated as he was by the worry etched over Eren's features – Eren, who was maybe scared of the rejection that he thought would follow – he couldn't avert his eyes.

Levi had never been told he was loved before.

He couldn't help it. He found that he didn't want to drive Eren away. He didn't want to turn him down.

Next thing he knew, he had a hand around Eren's neck, bringing him closer. Eren's arm went around Levi's back, his frown softening, and Levi closed his eyes.

Eren's mouth, delicately brushing against his, unsure and light, felt full of incredulous reverence.

Levi let Eren take them there, because he wanted to follow, even if he didn't know if it was the right thing to do.

But maybe, he thought as his tongue brushed against Eren's and his fingers intertwined into his hair, maybe this was okay too.

He soon found himself gently pushed against the couch. Gentle, Eren's kisses and Eren's hands, always so gentle. His lips against the skin of Levis neck. The comforting feeling of his solid body against Levi's – yeah, okay, he could live with that. But Eren wasn't doing anything, wasn't moving. He'd just stopped, face hidden in Levi's neck.

"Levi," he said, voice muffled.

He sounded breathless.

Levi made a noncommittal noise in answer, gripping Eren's sweater and willing him to do something at last. He didn't trust himself not to be equally out of breath.

"Now would be a good time to stop me," Eren said. "That is, unless you want me to go on."

Eren, Levi decided as he overturned him, was a little shit. Levi wanted many things right then. Stopping wasn't one of these. Hadn't been for a while now, if he had to be perfectly honest. He was tired of being confused at so many things, his own fucking feelings included, tired of blaming everything on his inability to process what he felt. Of being so unsure of what he wanted.

He straddled Eren's hips and leaned down for another kiss.

Maybe Levi wasn't the best at expressing himself. But maybe he didn't need to explain anything. Eren didn't seem to mind. He let Levi in, lips already wet and pliant.

Levi wanted this. Eren, splayed under him on the old couch. Eren, eyes glazed with something Levi was still hesitant to name. Eren, doing a bad job at keeping himself in check, muscles twitching when Levi ran a hand that wasn't trembling under his sweater, along his side. Eren, closing his eyes and letting out tiny noises when Levi ground their hips together. Eren, hard for him, pushing his clothed erection against Levi's, making him equally breathless.

Eren surged forward, sitting up as his arms slid around Levi to bring him closer. He started kissing a trail along Levi's neck.

Levi's sigh caught in his throat when he felt wet warmth line the seam of his ear.

"Captain," Eren whispered.

Only a breathy whisper, and yet, Levi felt himself shiver.

Eren just smiled against his skin before traveling further down his neck.

Levi hated how easy it was for Eren to get the better of him like that. And yet, strangely, he loved Eren for it.

His hands were back under Eren's sweater. They went over ribs and muscles that felt solid – despite the absence of intensive training. They mapped Eren's back, curious but careful. He'd been in no state to do this last time, when Eren had deserved it then, deserved better than what Levi had to offer, always. Levi could only make up for it by giving the best he had.

One of his hands went to the back of Eren's neck. He ran his fingers through thick hair that was softer than it looked. The other traced Eren's hip bones, his skin warm under Levi's hands. Eren nipped at Levi's collarbones then, and an intense spike of want had Levi's dick strain against his clothes.

He meant to sneak a hand into Eren's jean's to get at more skin, but there was only room for Levi to slide a couple fingers under Eren's belt. Being denied access had a mix of desire and frustration surge within him, intense and greedy. His other hand, deliberate and cautious before, fisted into Eren's hair as Levi ground down. Eren's sigh against his skin was only rousing the fire.

"Captain," Eren said, the title, a soft moan fanning breath against Levi's skin.

Levi's hand tightened in Eren's hair. He knew it shouldn't, but there was something in the way Eren said his former title that drove the blood in his veins wild. Eren sucked the tender skin of his throat, and Levi ground down again, harder, and again.

The moan that escaped Eren's lips was high-pitched this time, almost a whimper.

"Captain," Eren said, something like a warning in his voice.

But Levi didn't want to stop. He was hard and horny. He had Eren under him, between his legs, hard and wanting. He had no reason to stop.

Suddenly Eren's hands were at his waist, gently pushing him away so that there was space between them again.

There was enough room now for Levi to take a proper look at Eren's face.

Eren's breathing was harsh, shaky. There wasn't much light in the room, but it was good enough for Levi to see Eren's eyes, dark and hazy. His hair was a mess, sticking out in the places Levi had touched it. His skin was burning when Levi brushed a finger along his cheekbone. There was a small frown on his features. He looked overwhelmed.

There was something about watching a debauched Eren from above that made Levi's heart sing.

I did that, he thought, I made him like this, and he likes it.

He said he loves me, was his next though. Levi didn't know what to do with that knowledge, or how it was supposed to make him feel. It was all to huge for him to know how to deal with it.

There was nothing he could say, but it was okay. Levi had always been more eloquent through his actions.

His hand traveled down, until he could raise Eren's face, fingers delicate under his chin. He brushed his thumb along Eren's mouth. His lips were wet and Levi wanted to kiss them more. So, he did.

When they parted, Eren released a deep sigh. Levi had just started kissing his throat, when Eren spoke softly.

"Maybe," he started, "do you –" and stopped there.

Levi's mouth was busy licking its way down Eren's collarbone, so he couldn't reply.

"Hmm?" Levi said against Eren's skin.

Levi reluctantly leaned back when Eren's hand that was running through his hair gently tugged at it.

The look of unadulterated affection and want on Eren's face had Levi's chest fill with something he wasn't sure he wanted to voice yet.

"Bed?" Eren simply asked.

Yes, Levi thought.

He stood up from Eren's lap. Eren took a few seconds to follow suit. Levi didn't miss how he slightly adjusted himself in his pants. He could see Eren's erection barely hidden by the thickness of his jeans. Not bad.

When Levi looked up, Eren was watching him as well. Eren raised his eyes to meet Levi's gaze, and offered him an apologetic smile that was just this side of coy.

Levi guessed he didn't fare much better.

Eren took Levi's hand when the latter reached for him. He followed without a word into Levi's small bedroom.

It was even darker in there, but Levi made no move to turn on the light. Instead, he maneuvered Eren to sit on the bed and straddled his lap again.

"You like this," Eren said, a small smile dancing on his lips as his hands went to rest on Levi's waist.

Eren was right. But as he watched Eren's smile widen, Levi decided that commenting on the fact Eren had noticed was unnecessary.

They gazed into one another's eyes. Looking into Eren's darkened eyes like that, without a filter between them, was unnerving, Levi found. In the darkness of the bedroom, their green seemed black, deep like the night sky. The light from the nearby streetlamp, sneaking in through the small window, gave them a glimmer that reminded Levi of tiny stars, shining against the immensity of space.

Levi didn't think himself a coward, but he'd been taught to choose his battles. Despite the bravery he knew he possessed, this was too much. Levi couldn't face the void.

He closed his eyes, and let Eren kiss him.

Eren's hands wandered. They ventured down, squeezing Levi's thighs, before coming up again. They slid under his shirt and deft fingers tickled the naked skin of his back. Warm palms brushing against his nipples made him jolt.

Eren snorted then. It annoyed Levi, but it was okay. This was Eren, always eager to earn Levi's approval. Levi knew he didn't mean to ridicule or hurt. Eren was much too genuine, much too righteous for that.

And Levi could play this game too.

He pulled Eren's sweater up. Eren raised his arms without a word.

Once he had him topless, Levi pushed at Eren's shoulders, until he had him lying down on the bed. He ran his hands up and down Eren's chest, noting when he tensed or relaxed under him. He learned how Eren liked to be touched, and noted with no uncertain amount of satisfaction that he wasn't the only one who was ticklish.

Eren sat up after a while, and pushed his warm hands up Levi's sweater.

"You too," he said.

His quiet voice made Levi shiver. He let Eren remove his upper garments without protest. He didn't say anything either when Eren started unfastening his pants.

It was easy to stand up and remove them, leaving him in nothing but his underwear, which was just as easily taken care of. Eren had already started undressing, making it even easier to slide his remaining clothes down his legs. Easier still, to come back on the bed and sit in Eren's naked lap.

Levi shivered again at the contact of Eren's skin against his own. He was annoyed at himself. They'd been like this before. It shouldn't affect him so much. And yet, he relished how pent up it made him feel. He didn't remember ever feeling something like this, and he didn't think he'd ever get tired of it.

He couldn't help the shaky breath that escaped him when Eren put his hands on his bare hips.

Maybe it was okay to relinquish control, when it was here, in bed with Eren. Levi knew Eren wouldn't try and take advantage of it. They'd been through too much together.

From Levi's waist, Eren's hands moved to his ass, lingering there. Cautious fingers slid into the dip beneath his buttocks, feeling, exploring, brushing and squeezing in turn. His hold, almost fluttering against Levi's skin at first, turned stronger, bringing him close, as close as possible, until they were flush against each other.

Levi felt Eren's hardness pressing close to his own, and took a deep breath.

This. This was good.

It was easy to find a rhythm. Easy to let Eren kiss him breathless again and again. So easy, to let tension build up between them. Easy even to lose himself in the moment, which wasn't something he could recall doing, ever. Coming to care for Eren had been easy, then or now, but this – this, Levi had no more words for.

Levi's hand went down to take Eren between careful fingers, earning him a soft moan. He liked the feel of him, silken, heavy warmth fitting just right in his hand. He loved how Eren would tense as he stroked in rhythm with their slow shifting, how he would strain towards more contact, and kiss Levi hard enough to bruise.

Eren's hand joined Levi's between them, halting his motions. He sucked on Levi's lower lip as he rearranged their hands around them both, and moaned against Levi's mouth at the new sensation. He seemed to like this. Levi could see why. The feeling of warmth was good, and overwhelming.

Eren's fingers were wet, providing a glide to their movements. Levi wondered if he'd used spit again. He absentmindedly noted that he should buy lube some time, but the thought was fleeting, gone in a moment.

Eren's sigh turned moan rebounded in the small bedroom like a warning. Levi leaned back to watch his face. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows, scrunched in a blissful twist.

He seemed close, cock pulsating against Levi's palm. Levi tightened his hand, fingers rubbing against the underside of Erens cock with purpose. He wanted Eren to come for him, knowing that he'd taken him there.

At Eren's gasp, he pulled gently and took the head of Eren's cock into his closed fist. Eren lowered his forehead to Levi's shoulder and kissed his clavicle.

"Yes," Eren breathed into Levi's neck, and he was spilling between them.

Levi let him ride through his orgasm, hand slowing as Eren's sensitivity increased. He let go when Eren started nuzzling and kissing his neck, removing his hand from the sticky mess.

He barely had time to grab tissues from the stool he used as a nightstand. He meant to wipe his fingers, but Eren was kissing him, still a little breathless but recovering. Levi let his hand fall back to the bed covers, careful not to touch it with the wet parts. He still felt pent up, and Eren's tongue in his mouth, brushing against his own with skill matching his enthusiasm, was distracting. He could wipe his hand later.

Eren seemed to have other ideas. Levi felt a dizzying moment of weightlessness. When his back hit firm fabric, he realized Eren had laid him down from his lap into the bed. Levi opened his eyes and looked down.

Eren was kissing his way down his throat, his chest. He took Levi's cock, still covered in cum, into his hand and started stroking slowly. Levi, who was throwing dirty tissues in the general direction of the trashcan, glanced at him with a badly concealed jolt. He tried to glare, but at that moment, Eren grabbed him by the hips and slid the tip of his cock between his lips, and he had to close his eyes.

The feeling of wet, velvety warmth was incredible against his already heated skin. Eren's thumbs were stroking the dip at the juncture of his hips and thighs. His hands moved to gently scratch at the sensitive flesh inside his legs, before gently pushing them further apart.

Eren let go of Levi's cock for a bit, running the tip of his tongue under the head as he settled between his legs. It wasn't long before he took him fully into his mouth.

Levi had been close before, but he was now feeling like he was about to lose his mind. The high pitched whine that escaped through his lips was probably pitiful, but it seemed distant to his own ears, and already, he felt himself tense all over.

Eren might have felt it too, because at this moment, one of his hands left Levi's hips to intertwined their fingers.

It was all it took.

Release hit him, dulling all sensations bar from where he and Eren were connected. He could feel Eren's hand, tightening around his. Eren, who kept his mouth on him throughout his orgasm, gripping his hip tight, guiding him through it.

Before long, Levi was spent. Eren let him go, and Levi noted that there was no mess to be found. The implications left him light-headed.

Eren crawled up the length of the bed. He opened his arms and motioned Levi to lie against him. Levi felt too exhausted and boneless to object.

Besides, he found that he wanted to be there.


End file.
